By Sun or Candlelight
by LadyDeb1970
Summary: Second story in the All For One, One Forever series: For years, two things kept Giles Rochefort moving forward … his obsessive desire for Anne Maurice and his thirst for revenge against the district attorney who put him away: Robert Maddox. Now, released from prison by the machinations of Richelieu to destroy Athos de la Fere, he has the means to claim Anne and kill Maddox.
1. Prologue: Shadows of the Past

Author's Notes: And here we have the prologue to _By Sun or Candlelight_ , the sequel to _Come My Restoration_. There may be some sexy times with Athos and Milady Anne … especially if she decides that her Musketeer requires some distraction. Also, I'm thinking seriously about a prequel to _Come My Restoration_ , tentatively called, ' _I'll Show You What I Can Be_ ,' which chronicles Anne's time in San Francisco and her encounter with the Legacy, especially exploring what led her to start reclaiming her previous self. But I'm still mulling that over. So, in this chapter, Rob Maddox gets a very unpleasant surprise as he tries to wrap up his work day before meeting his wife for a date.

Disclaimer: Athos, Porthos, Aramis, d'Artagnan, Treville, Anne de Brueil (Milady), Constance, Anne Maurice (Queen Anne), Armand Richelieu, and Gilles/Giles Rochefort do not belong to me, nor does the concept of _The Musketeers_. Credit for all of the above goes to Alexandre Dumas and the BBC. I do, however, own the Maddox family. You can borrow them, but ask first, give credit where credit is due, and return them to me intact.

Prologue

Shadows of the Past

Office of the District Attorney

San Antonio, Texas

January 2015

It was another late night for Rob Maddox … mainly last minute details he was looking over on behalf of another ADA, who was allowing his second chair to cover for him while he was in the hospital. Everything looked fine, but tomorrow, Rob would be going over things with her one last time. What was it that Tristan liked to say? Ah, yes … ' _it never hurts to help_.' A quick glance at the clock told him that it was nearly six pm … Audelais would be here in another ten minutes, give or take. He was finding it easier and easier to call his wife by her birth name, although her sister-in-law still called her Josie. Even she was starting to desist with that, though, because as she put it, ' _Josie was the armor that she created to protect Audelais. That armor isn't necessary anymore_.' It was a rather poetic way of putting it, but he couldn't argue with the logic. Besides, he never really thought 'Josie' fit her … 'Josie' was the leader of the Pussycats, after all. And as much as he loved the idea of seeing his wife in a catsuit, the cat ears made him laugh. That really was **not** a good idea when you were trying to court a woman.

It was also not a good idea to be late, especially since he and Audelais were going to a play tonight. He'd originally offered to pick up Audelais at the Bourbon office here in San Antonio, until Eddie pointed out that would make them late. He was still extremely tentative around Audelais, although he'd admitted rather shyly that was more because he felt like a jerk than anything else. He'd built her up as this monstrous ogre of a woman (Rob didn't tell him that the word he was looking for was 'ogress'), and was more than a little stunned to meet a petite, soft-spoken woman (on the other hand, she didn't need to be an ogress … Porthos du Vallon's unimpressed look at anyone who would have upset her was warning enough).

"I'm heading out, Rob … anything you need before I go?" the young clerk asked, poking his head into Rob's office. The lawyer shook his head with a small smile, and Eddie went on, "If I see Joselais, I'll tell her that you're up here." Rob bit back a smile at Eddie's unconscious adoption of his wife's newest nickname, courtesy of the aforementioned Porthos. He had to admit, it suited her quite well … the mixture of her past and present. She seemed fond of it as well, admitting to him once during the last few months that she'd always hated her given name, even more so when she learned that it was more commonly a boys' name.

"Thanks, Ed, I appreciate that. You and she getting along okay?" Rob asked … more to have something to say than because it was something he didn't actually know. Eddie blushed and ducked his head. As the Musketeers had learned when Rob's brother-in-law decked him, Eddie Thackeray was one of the most outspoken of Rob's co-workers when it came to his divorce from Joselais. It had taken several conversations for the young man to understand that Rob had betrayed his wife's trust when he cheated on her. But the point wasn't driven home until about two months earlier.

Eddie had come home to find his own significant other in bed with someone else, and it had broken the young man's heart. And rather than being ugly about it (as Eddie obviously expected her to), Joselais had immediately taken the clerk under her wing, talking him into volunteering at Gennesaret as a channel for his grief, anger, and guilt. Guilt, Rob had questioned? His wife had nodded, saying that Eddie was wondering what he had done wrong … he had to have done something wrong if his other half was driven to cheating. Rob remembered his wife lying in a hospital bed in New Brunswick, wanting to know what she'd done wrong, and shuddered.

"She's a pretty cool lady. I wasn't expecting that. I'll see you in the morning, Rob," he said before doing a pretty decent about-face, and striding from the room. Rob smirked and returned his attention to the brief. A quick glance at the clock told him that his wife would be here in another five minutes, and Rob promised himself that he would finish reading over it in the morning. For now, he had to finish getting ready to go, especially if he wanted to surprise her downstairs. He was slipping into his sports jacket when the door opened and closed behind him. Rob smiled to himself. Typical.

"Forget something, Ed?" he called over his shoulder as he straightened the jacket. There was silence behind him, and frowning a bit, Rob turned … to find a somewhat familiar man in his office. That was bad enough, but what made his blood run cold was the sight of the gun in his hand. This … was not good. Rob abandoned his idea of meeting his wife downstairs … he didn't know what this guy wanted, but he doubted if he would have an issue with threatening or hurting Joselais to do it. Instead, he asked calmly, "Something I can do for you?"

The blond-haired man smiled mockingly, "Oh, you don't recognize me. I'm not sure if I should be hurt or pleased by that. But that's the way of it, isn't it? You don't remember the people whose life you impact the most. You put me away for eight years, and you don't remember me. Rochefort. Giles Rochefort. Does that name ring any bells? Unfortunately, it did, and Rob's heart tightened in his chest.

"I didn't put you away … your crimes did that, along with a jury of your peers. You stalked that girl, and when she didn't want anything to do with you, you tried to kill her," he answered evenly. Probably not the smartest thing to do, considering Rochefort was one of those who couldn't take responsibility for himself. The other man's eyes flashed angrily, but Rob didn't move. He'd put this bastard away about five months before he'd cheated on his wife, and all he could see for too long was his wife in place of the girl Rochefort had assaulted.

"She … led … me … on! She led me on and then she lied about it! Then again, my lawyer warned me … said we were screwed because she looked like your wife," Rochefort snarled. Actually, she hadn't. Joselais had dark hair, while the girl Rochefort assaulted had red hair. But Rochefort's lawyer wasn't the first to see a resemblance between that poor girl and Rob's wife. The ex-con shook his head, adding, "But you'll never admit to that, never admit you were in the wrong. That kinda makes things better, I think." Rob had no time to react, as Rochefort squeezed the trigger and a burning sensation stole his breath. He wasn't aware of collapsing to the ground, or even of pressing his hand to the wound. When next he was aware, he was staring up at Rochefort, who smirked, adding, "I think I'll let you bleed out, rather than put you out of your misery … let your bitch wife find out. If her brother is with her, that's even better. Happy dying, Maddox … your passing will only brighten the world!"

Dazed and in pain, there were only two words that Rob grasped … wife and brother. Josie. Josie was coming here tonight, and this monster was here, this monster who already mentioned Josie and her resemblance to that victim. Was Athos with her? Athos should come with her, as protective of her as he was. Athos could protect her from Rochefort … Athos, Porthos, Aramis, d'Artagnan. As blackness crept over his vision, Rob drew strength from that … Rochefort was a monster, but he was no match for the Musketeers.

TBC

Reviewer Responses:

A reader (epilogue to _Come My Restoration_ ): (bows) Thank you, thank you very much. So glad you enjoyed it! I couldn't let the idea of the ancestors watching over their descendents and namesakes go. It was just … it felt right. You'll be getting more Athos/Milady Anne in this story (also Aramis/Queen Anne).


	2. Chapter 1: With these Hands

Author's Notes: I started this chapter three times, because nothing seemed right until I was sitting waiting for my lunch at the real-life inspiration for Pan y Pescado and I 'saw' a sword-straw fight. That was the impetus for the first section (that and looking at a lot of Tom Burke pictures … ker-thud). I meant to mention this in the previous section, but Aramis will be taking on more of a role in this story, and hopefully d'Artagnan will have more to do here as well. It should be noted here that Luke Pasqualino has earned the distinction of the only d'Artagnan I have actually liked (well, I didn't have an issue with Gabriel Byrne in _The Man in the Iron Mask_ , but Chris O'Donnell annoyed the hell out of me in the 1993 movie). So, in this chapter, Athos enjoys an ice cream with his niece until he gets a call; Aramis picks up the pieces after the shooting; while Anne Maurice senses something that frightens her.

Reviewer responses:

Dg101: Thank you, I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

Chapter One

With These Hands

Gennesaret Building

San Antonio, Texas

About twenty minutes later

"You, sir, have impugned my honor! I _demand_ satisfaction!"

The words would have been troubling, if not for three things. A) they were sitting in a café; b) the speaker was a twelve-year-old girl; c) her 'weapon' of choice was the straw she'd only just removed from its wrapping. Well, he supposed he could have been alarmed by the remains of his niece's root beer float still clinging to the straw, but he could wash that off easily enough. However, a challenge had just been issued, and it had to be answered. With a mock-glower that wouldn't have fooled a five year old, much less his niece, he retorted, "You shall have it. En garde!" He made a lunge with his own straw that was parried by Tristan's and their mock straw duel was on. Athos de la Fere ignored the snicker that came from the (nominal) owner of the café … he had a niece to entertain.

He wasn't exactly babysitting. Tristan could largely look after herself … however, she did need adult supervision. Treville had ordered him to leave as soon as three thirty rolled around, so he could be there to pick up his niece after soccer practice. Her parents were going on a date tonight, the third since the Musketeers were relocated to San Antonio. Athos would be lying if he said he wasn't concerned about his older sister … but Audelais was older than he was, and she'd been on her own (more or less) since she was sixteen years old. And, he'd already warned his brother-in-law about what would happen if he hurt her again … although Porthos gave him a little added incentive. And Aramis helpfully added some tips for carrying out his promise.

"The dirty little secret of the Musketeers … their stoic leader has never grown up," teased Father Philip Callaghan. Athos paused just long enough in his straw fight with his niece to roll his eyes at his sister's priest and friend. Strictly speaking, it was Philip's secretary Tia who came up with the idea of the café … she'd been visiting her sister in the Carolinas, and she told Philip about the ministry that her sister was involved with. There were three parts to the ministry … the ministry itself, and the thrift store and grill which helped to support that ministry. Philip loved the idea, and there was an entire third floor that wasn't being used in the building. Thus, Pan y Pescado came into being.

In the beginning, the Musketeers ate here on their lunch breaks to help out Gennesaret, but as the months passed, they grew to enjoy not just the food (which wasn't anything fancy, but good), but the people who frequented the café. It also had the best banana splits and root beer floats any of them ever had. So, when Athos asked Tristan what she wanted to do tonight, it wasn't a great surprise that she wanted to come here for a root beer float. Tristan said, still waving her straw at Athos somewhat erratically, "Not so big a secret."

"Those are fighting words, my dear niece, and I will make you eat them … literally, in this case," Athos retorted, poking his own straw in her face. Tristan yelped, pulling back in alarm, and Athos snickered this time. Of course, that was akin to waving a red flag in front of a bull ( _no, Audelais, I did not just compare your daughter to a cow, why on earth would you think such a thing_?). His niece launched an even more erratic assault, and Athos was in actual danger of losing this bout when his mobile rang. Tristan pouted, but immediately put her straw down. Athos picked up the cell, saying, "This is de la Fere."

"Athos, we need you at the district attorney's office. Drop Tristan off with your ex, or let her stay with Constance, but she doesn't need to see this," his captain answered in a tense voice. Athos froze. District attorney's office. Audelais was planning to meet Rob at his office after work. He didn't know yet what had happened, but his captain right was right. His niece didn't need to see this, whatever it was. Athos caught Philip's eye and the priest drew near. There was a third option, although it wasn't worth the war it would cause between Anne and Ninon.

"Understood … I don't think Tristan would mind staying with Philip while I clear that up, sir," Athos answered. He received an understanding nod from the priest, while Tristan's expression was a mixture of disappointment and relief. Athos felt a pang of guilt for keeping this from his niece, but until he knew what was going on, he couldn't very well tell her, now could he? And he was allowing her to remain with Philip, who he knew was someone she trusted implicitly. His captain seemed pleased with the arrangement as well, telling him that worked as well as anything and he needed to get to the DA's office as quickly as possible. He promised to do just that and hung up, turning an apologetic look to his niece.

But Tristan was way ahead of him (she was getting more like her mother every day), saying, "It's okay, Uncle Athos … just don't forget to come pick me up after you finish cleaning up whatever mess was made." Athos smiled down at her as he rose to his feet, slinging his jacket around his shoulders. He leaned over to kiss his niece's forehead, and Tristan surged to her feet, wrapping her arms around his waist in a fierce embrace. Athos held her in turn, kissing the top of her head. She had her father's coloring and some of his looks, but every time Athos looked at her, he thought of her mother at that age … saw who Audelais could have been with another set of parents. He grieved for his sister and celebrated for his niece.

Before the night was out, he would be grieving more for his sister, and what she stood to lose.

14AA41

Bexar County District Attorney Office

Roughly the Same Time

The paramedics were bundling Rob Maddox into the ambulance after stabilizing him. The bullet was still bouncing around inside a lung, and seconds counted at the moment. Aramis d'Herblay had arrived on the scene only moments after hearing on the police scanner about the shooting reported. He actually planned to ignore it, until Ana pointed out that it was the District Attorney's office … and Aramis remembered that Audelais was planning to meet her estranged husband at his office before they headed to the theater together. With a muffled curse, he was on his feet immediately, calling Porthos as he did.

Somewhat to his consternation (and secret delight), Ana insisted upon accompanying him, regardless of what he found once they arrived at the district attorney's office. It was likely that Audelais and Maddox weren't even remotely involved in the shooting, but if either of them were … Ana's presence would go far in soothing him, especially if he was needed as emotional support. While he wasn't nearly as close to Audelais as Athos or Porthos were (or even d'Artagnan, come to that), he was slowly building a rapport with his new sister.

Then again, that got easier after Mass one day. He'd accompanied her after Maddox begged off (again … despite the promise he'd made to Audelais when she first agreed to give him another chance). Maybe he was telling the truth, and a family emergency for one of his co-workers needed his attention, but Aramis didn't trust the man, and he knew that his brothers didn't, either. However, as Athos did (most of the time), Aramis held his tongue and offered his services as an escort … an offer Audelais accepted with relief and pleasure. As they left the church together, Audelais murmured, "You know, every time I light a candle, I thank God for bringing you and the others into my brother's life. It's so good to know that he has had people looking after him, good people."

Aramis looked at her, a bit nonplussed, and she added with a somewhat sheepish smile, "I know, that sounds incredibly arrogant of me, and I blew any right to look after him when I left, but I can't help worrying about him. He's my little brother, and yes, I know he's one of the finest Musketeers in the entire organization, but he's still my little brother and he always will be. So I'll always worry about him, but I'll worry about him a little less because he has you, Porthos, and d'Artagnan looking after him, and I'll shut up before I make myself look like an even bigger idiot." Aramis stopped and turned the woman to face him, his hands moving from her shoulders to cup her face. He had enough of this ' _I'm responsible for what other people do_ ' nonsense from Athos, he wasn't about to take it from the man's sister, although that did explain a lot about his brother. Maybe a result of their childhood, especially their mother's actions? Likely.

"Point the first," he had said in response, "you don't even remotely resemble an idiot at the moment. Point the second, Athos looks after us probably even more than we look after him. And point the third, you didn't blow anything. You left, believing that your presence placed your younger brothers in danger. You had no way of knowing that it was Mariana Delmedigo's way of gaining a victory over your mother." Aramis had stopped, because only weeks after the Musketeers transferred to San Antonio, an enraged Louis called Treville. It seemed that during a conversation with her daughter Christine-Marie, Mariana let it slip (let it slip, as if Aramis believed that … no, that was revealed quite deliberately) that the idea was to have Vincent and Eugenie drive Audelais from her home, and then swoop in to 'save' the devastated girl. She hadn't counted on Vincent putting her on a bus bound for his college friend's hometown. Given what the poor kid experienced there, Aramis found himself wishing that had happened.

Athos had been silent during their conversation with Louis, but Aramis had seen the growing storm in his brother's eyes, and while d'Artagnan plotted with Tommy to drive Athos insane when the youngest de la Fere son joined them in San Antonio, Aramis and Porthos followed their brother and lieutenant into the hallway, where Athos paced like a caged tiger. At last, he turned to face them, all but begging, "Is it such a terrible thing that I wish that bitch had swept in to rescue my sister?" Porthos immediately pulled Athos into his arms, telling him that he would have been more troubled if Athos _hadn't_ felt that way.

And Aramis, who had learned from Tommy de la Fere that Audelais talked in her sleep (or maybe twilight time, since she was doped up on pain medication at the time) and that was how he learned about the travails his sister went through after leaving her childhood home, could only echo the sentiments of both his brothers. Remembering that during their conversation, Aramis had added, "And never think that Athos isn't as protective of you as you are of him. I thought I would need to get him falling-down drunk to prevent him from tracking down the son of your father's friend." He released Audelais, offering his arm (which was accepted with a small smile), and they continued on their way out of the church.

"I still wish he hadn't found out about that. I gave Tommy a scolding … especially since I wasn't entirely aware of what was going on around me when I was talking about that," she answered and Aramis inclined his head, seeing immediately what she meant. Tommy took advantage of his sister's state. Not willingly, not at first, but he should have spoken with Audelais before he revealed what he heard in the hospital. It wasn't his story to tell, and his sister deserved better than that from him.

"He would have found out about it eventually … but there was a better way Tommy could have done it," Aramis acknowledged. That earned him another smile from Athos' older sister, and since that day, the walls between them started falling more rapidly. They would probably never be as close as the others, but they understood each other's places in Athos' life, and respected those places. For that reason alone, Aramis had to go to the site of the shooting. And now, as he and Ana wrapped a thermal blanket around Audelais' shivering body, he was relieved that he had done so. The other individual who found Maddox, the young clerk Eddie Thackeray, was being tended to by the paramedics as well. He kept telling them just how bad-ass Audelais was when they heard the gunshot, running up the steps two at a time, and then using the contents of her bag (here, he blushed a bit, the first sign that he was coming out of his shock) to slow the bleeding down. She'd taken a hint from Constance, something that would no doubt leave their little sister overjoyed, assuming she stopped fretting over Audelais long enough for them to tell her.

Ana was sitting beside Audelais on the sidewalk, her arm wrapped protectively around the older woman's shoulders. Audelais' garment bag rested on the sidewalk, dropped when she heard the gunshots. Ana would, no doubt, take care of that later. Right now, the flesh and blood human being was far more important than the mass of fabric inside the garment bag. And, not so surprisingly, Eddie Thackeray wasn't the only one in shock. Audelais was rambling, and not making a damn bit of sense. Not that Aramis was about to hold that against her.

Instead, he knelt in front of her, carefully wiping the blood from her hands with his own handkerchief, at least until Ana sifted through her own purse to find the wet wipes she carried with her on a regular basis. Then Aramis began cleaning up the rattled woman, tenderly cleaning each digit with said wet wipe. He would worry about how to dispose of the bloody things later. Much later. For now, he murmured, "Athos is on his way … he'll be here soon, Joselais, I promise." Her breathing hitched and for a moment, Aramis expected another ramble from her. But she surprised him.

"Athos … he's with Tristan. Oh, God, Tristan … how do I tell her about this? I should have been thinking about her … I'm a bad mother," Audelais lamented. That, Aramis was not about to let slide. He firmly cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. He had heard Ana gasp at her statement, no doubt wondering where the hell that came from. Aramis had a pretty good idea, and while he wasn't Athos or Porthos, he didn't need to be, not right now. Making sure that Audelais' eyes were meeting his own, Aramis proceed to demolish that particular argument into teensy little splinters.

"The hell you are … listen to me, Audelais, because your brother doesn't always. What you are right now, is not a bad mother or a bad wife, but a woman who went into shock after the danger was passed and once her husband was safe in the hands of an expert. Don't you shake your head at me, that's the absolute truth. Eddie Thackeray told us what you did. He told us that as soon as the gunshots went off, you were running up those stairs, taking them two at a time. And then, when you found M … when you found your husband, your first action was to try to slow down the bleeding. I don't know if you saved his life … that remains to be seen …. but at the very least, you gave him a fighting chance," Aramis told her forcefully. She stared at him, tears rolling down her cheeks as her mind struggled with what he had said.

Aramis would have said more, would have repeated himself as many times as he had to, but it was then that Athos called, "Audelais? Audelais, where are you?" Aramis heard the utter terror in his brother's voice and rose to his feet, waving Athos down. His brother stalked toward them, leather jacket wrapped tightly around his body. Ana helped a still-shivering Audelais to her feet. Athos' eyes widened at the sight of his trembling sister and all but breathed, "Aude … oh, thank God you're all right!" Audelais stumbled forward, into her brother's waiting arms, and Athos held her against his chest, arms tight around her petite body. His eyes met Aramis' over his sister's shoulder, and Aramis dipped his head in response.

As Athos comforted his sister, Aramis murmured to Ana, "Come. The police will be investigating, of course, but until they get here, the Musketeers will be conducting an investigation of our own. Whoever did this has hurt our family … that will _not_ go unanswered." Ana slipped her hand into his and together, they slipped back into the building. He glanced once behind him, to make sure the police weren't paying attention to them and to check on Athos. His brother was gently urging Audelais to his car where he could look after her properly. Good. She didn't need to be here for what came next.

14AA41

Her intention, when she relocated from Montreal to San Antonio and divorced Louis, was to figure who Anne was. Just Anne Maurice, not Louis' wife Anne, not the daughter of Alain Maurice … just Anne. What was it that d'Artagnan said? The best laid plans of mice and men? She'd just arrived at her hotel in San Antonio when Louis contacted her to tell her that the Inseparables would be joining her in San Antonio. He'd told her a lot of other things, things she was still processing, but that was what stuck out. The Inseparables would be here in San Antonio, with her, and that was both good and bad news. It was good because she adored all four of the Inseparables, and Constance was her dearest friend. It was bad because her desire to work out who Anne was on her own just became far more complicated.

It was because of her own weakness, she knew. She couldn't work out who Anne was if Aramis was there, because her attraction to him was that strong. He blew past all her carefully constructed defenses as if they were nothing more than tissue paper … wet tissue paper at that. In the beginning, it had frightened her, especially since she was married to Louis at the time. But then, she saw the exact same feelings when he looked at her, and then it was as if the shifting sands under her feet had turned to stone. That frightened her even more.

She wasn't entirely sure how to feel when Aramis and his brothers arrived in San Antonio with Constance and Treville. Perhaps sensing this, the sharpshooter among the Inseparables kept his distance from her, although she could feel his eyes upon her when the group was together. Those first six weeks had been hectic as they worked on the Garrison … work that was speeded along when Father Philip's soccer team and Gennesaret volunteers came to help. That was also how Anne met Athos' older sister, the mysterious Audelais.

Not so mysterious now. Anne thought of the shivering, shaken woman she and Aramis just left in the comfort of her younger brother's arms. Anne hadn't known what to expect when she met Audelais de la Fere. Somehow, it escaped Constance's mind that Audelais was also known as Josephine Maddox. Imagine her surprise when, upon entering the under-renovation former firehouse, she encountered the head of human relations, dressed in a pair of old cargo pants and an old stained sweatshirt, issuing work assignments to the soccer team. On one side stood Anne de Brueil, the former headhunter for Richelieu, and on the other stood Ninon de Larroque, each carrying a clipboard. One woman was sent in one direction with half the soccer team, while the other was sent in the opposite direct with the other half, and she greeted Anne with a tired smile, saying, "I don't believe in tempting fate. I'm lucky they were in the same room as long as they were without even a catty comment being made."

She was very lucky indeed, and Anne asked, "What can I do to help? Treville told me that I should see you when I arrived." Athos' older sister consulted her own clipboard, lips moving as she read over it thoughtfully, and then a sheepish expression appeared on her face. Anne braced herself to hear that there was nothing for her to do (or even more terrifying, she would have to work in close quarters with Aramis). But as she was wont to do, Audelais surprised her.

"Actually … how are you with children? Tia, who is usually the one to take care of the children, had an emergency at home, and while my daughter can look after the kids, she could really use some adult supervisor. Just in case," was the explanation. Anne brightened immediately because while she hadn't been blessed enough to be a mother, she adored children. She agreed and Audelais led her to what would eventually become the comfort room, where the boys could relax without actually having to go to bed. She introduced Anne to her daughter Tristan, who looked so much like a female version of Athos, Anne couldn't help but smile.

Audelais herself quietly directed the work (although, while supervising the children as they tromped to the kitchen for a snack, she did see the two older de la Fere children double-teaming Aramis as the Inseparables (plus Treville and Constance) painted the proposed meeting room. She bit back a laugh, which became harder when her eyes met Tristan Maddox. The little girl covered her mouth with her hand, but Anne could still hear her snickering at her mother and uncle's antics.

Anne swallowed hard as she followed Aramis up the stairs to the office where Tristan's father had been shot. She didn't know Rob Maddox nearly as well as she was coming to know his wife. Yes, she knew that they were divorced … she also knew that he was trying to win her back. She'd met him maybe two or three times, and while he was a very handsome man and still very much in love with Audelais, she wasn't entirely comfortable with him. Or, maybe it was more proper to say that she didn't trust him.

Because right now, she was feeling uncomfortable on another level. As she and Aramis entered the office (Anne once more thanking God that she'd had the sense to create a quid pro quo relationship with the San Antonio Police Department, otherwise this wouldn't be possible), Anne had the very uncomfortable sensation that someone was watching them. There were no creaks under someone's feet, but something … something felt wrong. Her hand tightened in Aramis' as he murmured to himself.

It was her first time accompanying any of the Musketeers while they investigated (or, watched them as they prepared security measures for visiting dignitaries) … indeed, it was her first time being at a crime scene, and she carefully avoided touching anything with her free hand. She asked Aramis, "What can you tell?" Like Anne, Aramis avoided touching anything … but she'd watched him as they entered the office, saw his dark eyes noting and cataloging everything. She had to wonder what he was seeing … in addition to being the team sharpshooter, he was also the de facto medic. And those who could ease pain could also inflict it.

"I didn't get a good look at Maddox before he was taken to the hospital, but based on what Joselais and Thackeray told us, I'd say that the shooter was standing about there. Note the imprint of shoes there?" Aramis pointed out and Anne nodded, now seeing what he meant … there was an imprint of a man's shoes in the carpet, perhaps six feet from them. Aramis went on, "I know it's the shooter, because of where Maddox was found … there." He indicated a snatch of carpet saturated with blood, and once more, Anne nodded her understanding, and Aramis completed what he'd picked up by adding, "And I'm going to venture to say that the man who shot Maddox is right-handed, around six feet tall." Anne raised her eyebrows questioningly. How could he be that specific?

As if hearing her thoughts, a small smile played about Aramis' lips as he explained, "Turn to face me." Anne did so, and Aramis next instructed, "Raise your right hand and arrange your fingers as if they were a gun." Frowning thoughtfully, Anne followed the directions … and gasped as her fingers pointed at the left side of Aramis' chest. He smiled a little, saying, "I'm not a crime scene tech, much less a crime scene investigator, Ana, but there are a few things I've learned. As a Musketeer, given our relationship with the police, there are things I've had to learn, to protect our clients and my brothers." Yes, she could see that.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, adding, "And that's what I'll tell the detectives, assuming they've not put that together themselves. Come. We should get back to Athos and Audelais. They'll need us at the hospital." Yes, they would … and as Aramis led her out of the office where a husband and father was shot, Anne's feelings of unease began to dissipate. But she wouldn't forget how she felt. In her relatively short life, Anne had encountered true evil on more than one occasion … and she believed, with all of her soul, that evil was present in Rob Maddox's office. That evil sought to take his life. That evil was still present, and she had the terrifying sense that it wasn't done with them yet.

She could only be ready, and stand with the Musketeers when the evil came for them again.

TBC


	3. Chapter 2: What is Behind Him

Author's Notes: Things have been rather … interesting at work this past week, so my creativity took a direct hit. (Yes, that's a euphemism. No, you don't want to hear the details. Suffice to say that more than one department/office was feeling the pain. And there's still the matter of graduation to get through. Yes, we start planning for commencement several months in advance, practically as soon as the previous one is finished). Thankfully, Tristan was on point. She is definitely Athos' niece. In fact, I'm mentally planning a later chapter titled, ' _Like Uncle, Like Niece_.' But that's … oh, five or six chapters away. For now, we have Milady Anne comforting a frightened Tristan; Athos being a good little brother for Joselais; and Constance fretting over her entire family. Speaking of which … how would y'all feel about a little Constagnan baby?

Reviewer Responses:

A Reader: Thank you so much … I'm so glad you've enjoyed the first two entries. I can't promise weekly updates, but so far they're pretty close to that. Oh. Yum. Athos … wet t-shirt or even no shirt at all (have I ever mentioned how much I love that open shirt of his during several episodes of the show? Guh! Yeah, dirty old lady mode on full blast here). I read about BBC America not airing season 3. So not happy right now, especially since the stills have had my mouth watering … my God, those boys are gorgeous! I seriously want to hug every last one of them. I've also seen some pictures of Maimie, Alexandra, and Tamla at various functions which made me smile because those three girls seem to truly love each other. And do you know, it may be borderline blasphemous among _Musketeer_ fans to say this, but I think Maimie is even prettier when she's being herself.

Chapter Two

What is Behind Him

Basement of Gennesaret

An hour and a half after the shooting

Something was happening. She didn't say anything as Uncle Athos leaned forward to wrap his arms around her and kiss the top of her head, but she knew. Captain Treville (who she kept wanting to call Uncle Jean) had told her the previous day while she was at the Garrison that her uncle only left work once his paperwork was done. Uncle Aramis and d'Artagnan were on call tonight … Porthos had told her that. So if Captain Treville called her uncle while he was watching over Tristan? Something happened, and she had a sick feeling that it had something to do with her mother or her father. Maybe both.

But she pasted a smile on her face, because Father Philip saw far more than she wanted him to see. She finished up her ice cream and went downstairs to the nursery, because it was where she felt safest in Gennesaret. Besides, all of the kids were gone for the moment … this was their time in Pan & Pescado before heading to the main floor for movie night (and for once, she didn't care what was playing). She was safe here … she didn't have to wear any masks or be brave. And of course, that was when Milady Anne came. Tristan had stuffed herself into a corner between two cribs, and shook because it had been only six months since her mother came so close to dying and Tristan couldn't help imagining the worst. Milady Anne said softly from the door way, "I know you're down here, Tristan Iseult. And I know you've realized something is wrong. Athos is a good man and an awesome uncle, but there are times when his poker face sucks rocks. But to be fair, he wasn't sure what he was going to find when he got to the district attorney's office … he wasn't lying to you deliberately."

The district attorney's office. Tristan closed her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks, but she crawled out from her hiding place to come face to face with her aunt in all the ways that mattered. Milady Anne gazed at her with solemn green eyes, before her expression softened and she held out a hand to Tristan. The girl couldn't resist the offer, and threw herself into her aunt's arms. There was a moment where Milady Anne went completely still, and then Tristan was being pulled closer, her head coming to rest under her aunt's chin. Milady Anne whispered, "Your father has been shot, sweeting. Your mum found him when she arrived at the office to meet him for their date … she may have even saved his life. Never realized your mum was such a bad-ass, did you?" Tristan laughed and cried at the same time, and hiccupped. Milady Anne's arms tightened around her further.

"So, here's what's going to happen. You're going to get this out of your system, because no one is dead yet. I know you're scared and you have every right to be. I would never say otherwise. But no one is dead yet, and I don't think your father is going to die. So get it out of your system, don't let it poison you … and then wash your face, and I'll drive you to the hospital. Your mother will need to see you, need to know that you're okay. Understood?" Milady Anne asked and Tristan nodded, clinging to her aunt. Milady Anne kissed the top of her head, her voice softening further, and she murmured, "Poor thing … first your mum shot, and now your father."

Tristan wept into her aunt's blouse, because almost losing her mother had scared her so badly. She was proud of her … she was so proud of her mom, because she was a heroine. She'd stood between her two brothers and that evil woman. But at the same time, she was angry with her mom for being shot, and she hated herself for being angry with her mother. She'd hated herself for being angry with her uncles as well (although, later, she didn't feel so bad about being angry with Uncle Tommy. He'd let people think that Uncle Athos killed their parents, and then told people that her mom was molested before her mom was ready to talk about it!)

And yes, she'd known everything would be okay when her mom opened her eyes in the recovery room, even briefly, and she'd recognized Tristan and smiled ever so slightly at her. _She knows you, pet_ , Porthos had told her, _that's a really good sign_. Tristan thought she'd started falling in love with him even then. Milady Anne hugged her again, murmuring, "There is one good thing. Your uncle is at the DA's office now, and he's taking care of your mum." Curiously, that did make Tristan feel better, because she knew her uncle would take good care of her mom. They were still doing a weird side-ways dance while they worked out their adult relationship. At least, that was how Porthos explained it. She'd looked at him, frowning as they worked in the Garrison to get it up to code.

Porthos grinned at her, asking, ' _you want to know what I mean by that_?' She'd nodded as she noticed some paint she'd missed while scraping, and her uncle's fellow Musketeer went on, ' _remember, the last time your mum and uncle saw each other, she was sixteen and he was eleven. Now, in her mind, your mum knows that Athos is a grown man, but in her heart, he's still eleven. Same with Athos. He knows that she's a grown woman and a mum to boot, but in his heart, she's still the sixteen year old girl who raised him. They both have things to get used to_.'

That made a serious amount of sense. Then again, Porthos had a way of making things make sense, even things that shouldn't make sense. He would have been her first choice, if her parents or Uncle Athos weren't available, but Milady Anne was good, too. Her almost-aunt kissed the top of her head again, murmuring, "C'mon, kiddo … Uncle Aramis and Miss Anne are investigating at the DA's office. One thing's for sure … whoever did this won't stay hidden long. Your uncle and the others take the ' _all for one and one for all_ ' pledge pretty damn seriously." And because Tristan and her father were connected to the Musketeer lieutenant's sister … they were part of ' _one for all and all for one_ ' as well. Now she started to understand.

14AA41

Parking Lot of District Attorney's Office

Same time

Athos hadn't heard the conversation between his niece and his brother at the under-renovation … but if he had, he would have agreed whole-heartedly with Porthos' sentiments. The most difficult part of re-connecting with his sister was moments like this, when he no longer saw his surrogate mother, but a frightened woman. Athos had hated those moments when he was a child, because Audelais was his rock and if his rock was shaken, then so was the ground under his feet. It was marginally better for him as an adult, because now his brother Musketeers were his touchstone. But seeing Audelais like this was still … un-nerving.

Not that he was seeing much of his sister at the moment. She was trembling in his arms, face buried in his chest (much the same way his was when he was a small boy taking refuge in his sister's arms). He'd led her away as Aramis and Anne Maurice ducked into the DA's office to see what they could learn. His brother would figure out who had done this … right now, it was Athos' job to look after her sister. It was supposed to be a date night for her and her ex … Maddox was courting Audelais, just as Anne was courting Athos (although for some reason, he wasn't supposed to know that).

Athos didn't have a lot of use for Maddox. It wasn't just that the man cheated on his wife, although that factor truly didn't help. He just … didn't like him. There was something about Rob Maddox that grated on Athos, but he'd spent too many years as Eugenie de la Fere's son to let that show. Besides, regardless of how Athos himself felt about the man, he knew that his sister still loved her ex. She never said so (although Anne did, often enough), but he could see it in her eyes every time she looked at him. She still loved him and still mourned for what they lost. Athos saw that in her eyes as well … that grief, that wistfulness.

No, Athos didn't have much use for Rob Maddox at all. But he was Audelais' ex-husband, Tristan's father, and even if his sister wasn't stumbling toward reconciliation with her ex, Maddox was still part of Athos' family … and that made this case personal.

That was, in fact, why Aramis was taking point … it wasn't just that Audelais needed him, but as the ex-brother-in-law of the victim, Athos was entirely too close. Besides, Aramis could use his charm to devastating effect, and while Athos left the door-kicking to Porthos, no one in their right mind would consider him 'charming.' That bothered him not at all. He had other roles to play among the Musketeers, and among his family. Right now, that was comforting his sister, whose sobs were slowing down. That was a relief. He'd always hated to see a woman cry … it didn't matter if it was his sister, his mother (even when she was using tears to manipulate … no, he still hadn't forgiven her), or his wife. And comforting didn't come easily to him.

Audelais slumped against him, head resting against his collarbone, and she whispered, "God, you must think I'm an idiot." On the contrary … from what Athos was able to piece together between her sobs and gasps for breath, she'd done an extraordinary job. Not just in staying calm and not touching anything in the room (which would make the investigation far easier), but in remember Constance's trick with the … erm … feminine napkins to slow down the bleeding. However, that wasn't what his sister needed to hear (nor did she need to see him blushing).

Instead, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, murmuring, "Not at all. I think you were incredibly brave, and your resourcefulness saved your husband's life. At the very least, you bought him enough time for the paramedics to arrive on the scene." He winced at that last … not something that his sister needed to hear. Even if the rest of it was true … maybe his sister went onto autopilot, but she was still extremely brave and resourceful. He added after a moment, "Besides, I think Tommy and I have pulled far more hare-brained stunts than you have."

There was a small snicker, and she whispered, "No argument here. I still can't believe you let that bimbo Catherine catch you off-guard." Athos rolled his eyes. She wasn't about to let that go. Of course she wasn't, whatever was he thinking? After a moment, she asked wearily, "What do I do, Athos? I know that Tristan needs me, she needs me to be strong, but right now … I barely have enough strength for myself. I know that makes me a horrible mother, I know that, but all I see when I close my eyes is Rob … blee … bleeding out on the carpet." There was a hitch in her voice, and Athos tightened his arms around her. There was a part of him which was annoyed with her insistence that she was a bad mother, but Athos had only to remember the example she had. For the first time, he thought about what it must have been like for her after Tristan was born, not having an example of a good mother. They'd talked about it in the past, and she'd admitted that for most of Tristan's life, she'd imagined what their mother would have done in that situation and did the exact opposite. Yes, he'd always called her his surrogate mother, but there was a big difference between raising your younger brother and being a parent.

Which was why he breathed into her hair, sounding more than a touch exasperated, "As God is my witness, Audelais, if you say you're a bad mother one more time, I will turn you over my knee and spank you. And don't think I can't do it. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a lot bigger than you are now." That surprised a laugh from her, and Athos continued in a much more gentle voice, "You have far more strength than you realize, and if the worst happens, if your own strength fails you, then you have mine … mine and my brother Musketeers. You know Porthos and d'Artagnan adore you. Anne would kill for you. You have more support than you realize, and you will get through this. You survived so much already … you'll survive this too."

He didn't mention his brother-in-law, because he didn't know what Rob Maddox's fate would be. But Athos had already decided that his sister and niece would come through this, and be the stronger for it. They would come through it, because they had people willing to fight for them. Audelais was silent for several moments, then she whispered, "As you wish … all for one, and one for all." Athos closed his eyes, a lump seeming to take up permanent residence in his throat. It was rare that his sister used both euphemisms for 'I love you' at the same time.

But such utterances deserved to be answered in kind, and he murmured against her temple, "As I love you, my dearest sister." Keeping one arm around the exhausted woman, he started the car. He'd alerted Anne to Tristan remaining at Gennesaret once the captain told him about what happened here. She would pick up Tristan and meet them at the hospital. If Ninon decided to throw what his sister called a 'hissy fit,' she could just deal with it. This wasn't about her ego … it was about Athos' sister and niece, and he had no problem with showing just how far he would go to protect them.

14AA41

Lupiac Home

San Antonio

Approximately the same time

' _I didn't marry any other man … I married a Musketeer_!'

She'd uttered those words nearly six months earlier as she and d'Artagnan finished packing up their life in Montreal. She'd said those words with such love and such pride, she'd found it difficult to believe that she could possibly love d'Artagnan more than she already did, that she could possibly be any prouder of him. And yet, here they were … half a year later, in a totally different country, creating a new life together with their insane, wonderful brothers. And she was even more in love with d'Artagnan now and felt as though she would literally burst with pride in her amazing husband than on the day she married him.

Which was why, when he left nearly a half hour earlier after getting a call from Athos, Constance was worried. Not because she was worried about d'Artagnan (well, she would always worry about d'Artagnan), but because of something her husband said as he left. Something that left her worried about their eldest brother. He'd breathed, 'don't know how this is gonna play out, but I should be there for Athos.' Which meant that Athos called him. That made sense. Aramis was spending time with Anne Maurice, while Porthos had a Skype date with Flea … so they were both fine. Which left Athos' birth family (especially since Constance now remembered that Athos was watching over his niece). Besides, if there was an issue with Aramis or Porthos, d'Artagnan would have told her as he left.

No … no, this had to do with the de la Fere family … which meant Audelais. Yes, because tonight was her date with her ex-husband. And that meant while d'Artagnan left on his own, she would be needed as well. The Musketeers were her family as well. Constance tapped her lip thoughtfully and looked at the box in her hand, mentally calculating what would be possible, as well as what would be reasonable. Results in two minutes. Soon enough, but … Constance's lips firmed and she very deliberately placed the pregnancy test back in the medicine cabinet. She would go to the Garrison, and if the captain confirmed her supposition, she would go to the hospital. Her family would need her, and while Audelais wasn't yet part of that family (there was a wariness in her eyes when she looked at Constance … was she still afraid that Constance would hold her responsible for what Milady had done? If so, it was long past time to put that fear to bed), Constance was extremely fond of her.

Constance was the wife of a Musketeer, and during her conversations with the wives of police officers (and the occasional military wife) after their move to San Antonio, she was learning that she had a great deal in common with them. No, the Bourbon Musketeers weren't the same thing as the regiment they were named after, their ancestors and antecedents, but they _were_ protectors, and that carried an inherent danger, not just to them but to those they loved. Still, they fought on. They fought not because of hatred or because of a love of violence, but because they loved who they fought for. So did Constance.

TBC

Additional Author Notes: The chapter title comes from the following quote, ' _the true soldier fights not because he hates what's in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him_ ,' from G.K. Chesterton, although Mr. Chesterton's contemporary and fellow Englishman JRR Tolkien had a variation in _Lord of the Rings (_ I think that line was spoken by Faramir _)_. And as a military brat, I should have thought of that quote much sooner. Silly girl. But I do see the spouses of even the Bourbon Musketeers as being much like military spouses or police spouses. They never know when they'll see their husbands or wives again. It's not a guarantee any of us have, but I think they're more aware of it.


	4. Chapter 3: For Every Evil

Author's Notes: So, I decided to give y'all a bit of Athos-whump ahead of the main event (that would be the first major confrontation with Rochefort). This past week at work was marginally better, but I'm still tired, still cranky, and still of a mind to take it out on fictional people. The good news is, my request for vacation time was approved, so I've made my hotel reservations to travel to Indiana next month to see my great-nephew. I'm hoping to get to see some of my former classmates from my first high school (we moved in the spring of my junior year from Indiana to Pennsylvania). So, in this chapter, Aramis reflects on a conversation with Milady and a potential clue about what happened to her in San Francisco; news about Rob is provided; and Rochefort is creepy.

Reviewer Responses:

Dg101: Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it!

A reader: I tracked down the episode in question and watched it … but there was no sound! I managed to figure out what was going on, and oh my, Athos is _very_ cuddly this season! No fewer than three hugs in one episode alone! So proud of him! I'm working on getting a Hulu account set up (since I have a free trial period on my laptop that I still haven't activated), once I get a date when _The Musketeers_ are available in the States. I must love this show … I've never done anything like that. Then again, this fandom is special.

Chapter Three

For Every Evil

Hospital Waiting Area, San Antonio

Three hours after shooting

He was expecting organized chaos once they arrived at the hospital, but instead, they were greeted with a quiet waiting area just outside the OR. The first people he saw were Athos and his older sister, Joselais listing against their brother, her head resting on his shoulder and Tristan curled up in her mother's lap. Athos' arm was wrapped protectively around his sister and niece, while Anne de Brueil watched over all three of them with an inscrutable expression. Opposite her was d'Artagnan and Constance talking in low tones, whilst Porthos and Treville were missing. Constance looked up as Aramis and Ana approached, and d'Artagnan pushed off the wall. His youngest brother intercepted them, murmuring, "Porthos and the captain are making a coffee run. They should be back shortly. Find anything?"

"Later … I want to tell everyone at once. How is Maddox?" Aramis asked softly. Constance shook her head, which Aramis took to mean that there was no news. He'd expected as much, and continued, "By the way, on our way back, I approached the police detective handling the case. I explained who we are and how Maddox is connected to us. He expects us to share any information we find and asks that we allow them to make the arrest, but given Bourbon's reputation in this city … and ours … he's fine with us investigating."

"That's good to hear. I don't think Athos or the captain will mind about the SAPD getting the collar or the credit," d'Artagnan murmured and Aramis agreed. It wasn't about the credit … it was about making sure their family wasn't hurt further. Aramis didn't believe this was an isolated incident. On the way to the hospital, after finishing their examination of the room, Ana told him of her feelings inside the office. Evil, she called it, and it took all of Aramis' self-control to keep from pulling her into his arms where she would be safe. But safety was an illusion, wasn't it? And Ana wasn't ready to be with Aramis … not yet.

"How are Audelais and Tristan?" Ana murmured as she squeezed Constance's hand, "how are they holding up? I can see Milady guarding them … she doesn't think this is over, does she?" It was something they discussed in the car on the way to the hospital, right after Ana admitted about sensing evil in the office. Constance and d'Artagnan shared a look, and then Constance shook her head. While the two women beloved by his brother Musketeers would probably never be friends, they were at least allies, and they could talk without getting into an argument … or a catfight. Besides, Milady knew what would happen to her if she hurt Athos again. Constance was excruciatingly clear about _those_ particular consequences.

However, the former headhunter was devoted to courting his brother and the woman who had once tried to destroy his reputation before having him killed was now as protective of him as his own sister was. Not for the first time, Aramis wondered what happened after their confrontation with Rochefort, what concluded her turn back to Anne from Milady. She spoke of something that happened in San Francisco that badly shook her … of seeing who she was in danger of becoming if she started down the wrong path again, but provided no details. Although, she did drop a tantalizing hint about eight weeks earlier.

The Musketeers were protecting a potential new investor for Bourbon, the representative for an Australian company who could open doors for them in the Pan Pacific countries, when things went spectacularly pear-shaped. The investor, one Angus McDonnell, brought his own security detail … who turned on him, and when Athos moved to protect the stunned representative, he was shot in his place. Anne, who was pretending to be Athos' secretary at Ana's request, took down the shooter and two of his cohorts, before their investor finished off the final traitor himself. With the threat removed, Anne collapsed to her knees beside the unconscious Athos, cradling him protectively in her arms while the still-shaken McDonnell clawed open Athos' jacket and shirt … to find a rather sizable dent in the protective vest Athos was wearing.

Athos awoke at that point and woozily asked Anne if he should be worried by their charge's familiarity. Aramis was still stunned that Athos hadn't come up swinging, but the sensation of Anne's arms around him and her scent must have reassured him. McDonnell was so impressed by both Athos and Anne, he insisted upon signing the contract once it was drawn up … didn't bother asking the home office for approval. Aramis was of the opinion that meant that McDonnell was more than a rep, a conclusion that Treville, Athos, and Anne all shared.

While Athos was being checked over, Anne had a quiet breakdown in the waiting room. McDonnell had been returned to his hotel by Treville, and Porthos was distracting d'Artagnan, who'd been fretting ever since Athos went down. Anne was alone, and as Aramis approached to check on her, she'd whispered, "I saw her again … the me I could have been. She was there when Athos was shot, and she was _smiling_ , as if she took pleasure in his pain, in my fear. I … I don't want to be her. I once thought I did, but I _don't_."

Aramis very carefully avoided touching her, uncertain if she even realized he was there, and Anne went on, "I didn't believe in ghosts, you see … not until I went to San Francisco, when I saw the phantom me try to take over a young woman who was her antithesis in every way. There are ghosts and demons in the world, Aramis. But you know that." At that, she'd looked at him. Aramis didn't know what to make of what she said, until he seized on those eight words.

"If there are ghosts and demons in the world, Milady, and not just demons encased in human flesh … there must also be angels. For every evil, there is a corresponding good. It's not a matter of binary or even opposites, it is simply balance. Is there evil in the world? Without question. Therefore, there must be good. And there _is_ ," Aramis answered. The woman bit her lip, a trace of vulnerability he had never seen before in her, and then Milady's green eyes flickered to him, in the way Tristan's did sometimes when she wanted to ask a question but wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"Do you think there's good in me? Or have I gone too far? I would have let Catherine walk away, even after she shot Josie and Tommy … but then she hurt Athos, and …" she rasped out hoarsely. She closed her eyes and whispered, "I don't regret it. I don't regret making sure that she can't hurt anyone else, ever again. But I live on, and I still hurt people, and I don't regret it. I'm turning into **her**."

"No. You're not. Is there good in you? Yes. Two years ago, I wouldn't have said that, but there is. Have you gone too far? If you're asking that question, if you're _capable_ of asking that question, then you haven't. And Catherine … she wouldn't have stopped. And that's the difference. Somehow, some way, even before you went to San Francisco, you put the brakes on what you were becoming. Did you break some heads today? You most assuredly did. But you did it to protect someone you love … not because it was fun or they were in your way, but because they hurt Athos and would have killed McDonnell," Aramis answered quietly.

He could see her mulling over what he said, and slowly, the truth began to sink in. Aramis smiled when he saw her nod and mouth ' _thank you_.' He started to walk away, but stopped when Anne said, never raising her voice, "If you ever mention this to anyone …" Aramis turned back to face her, inclining his head with a tiny smile, a smile that she returned a bit shyly. The walls that protected Anne de Brueil's heart were slowly cracking and crumbling, but Milady remained and always would.

Aramis returned to the present when a weary-looking doctor approached ahead of some commotion. As one, the entire family turned to face her, Joselais rising to her feet, her daughter still in her arms. The doctor asked, "Maddox?" Athos' sister nodded, looking worried, and the doctor began, "I'm Dr. Miranda Harper. We're getting ready to take him into surgery now. The first thing you need to know is that he's still fighting. He lost a lot of blood, and he'll have an uphill battle coming, but we have him stabilized for surgery and he's still fighting …"

14AA41

She had to wonder if something was wrong with her. She'd knelt beside her ex-husband's injured body, pressed one of the napkins she carried against that wound, and had his blood on her hands. There had to be something wrong with her, that she was standing here, listening to the woman who would be operating on him, her daughter in her arms. Why wasn't she hysterical? Why wasn't she an absolute wreck? There had to be something wrong with her. It would have made sense, if it was Anne worrying over Athos … or Constance, fretting over d'Artagnan. Anne was … well, Anne was Anne, and no one could ever describe her as a civilian. And Constance, while she was a computer hacker, once put her life at risk to save Athos.

They were warriors. She … wasn't. And yet, she was worried, she was upset, she was angry, but she wasn't falling apart at the seams. Once they arrived at the hospital, it was as if something inside her turned off, and it was frightening her … in a dull sort of way. Audelais Josephine de la Fere Maddox shook her head as the surgeon motioned them to stand to the side, allowing the gurney carrying Rob to pass into the OR. Tristan whimpered, burying her face in her neck, and Porthos (who stood to her left) put a gentle hand on her back.

He … didn't look like Rob. This man was pale, almost waxen in his pallor, and his eyes were closed. And he hurt. His eyes were closed, indicating unconsciousness, but he hurt. She could see the lines engraved in his face, could hear it in the way he breathed. Her arms tightened around her daughter, around their daughter, to prevent Tristan from seeing this. She shouldn't have to see this. Rob shouldn't be lying there. None of this should be happening. To her right, Athos tightened his own arm around her waist, as if to anchor her. Why? Was she in danger of flying away? She wasn't the one who was injured.

Rob was injured. Rob was being rolled away on a gurney for the surgeons to remove the bullet and do whatever else had to be done. That was something else that the doctor told them … it wasn't always necessary to remove a bullet, but this time it was. If the bullet wasn't removed, it could kill him later. She thought of her own brush with being shot, and shuddered. Once more, Athos tightened his arm around her, and then her … and then Rob was in the operating theatre. Behind them, she heard Treville speak Porthos' name, and her daughter was being eased from her embrace, Porthos murmuring to Tristan all the while. And then, Athos was releasing her, promising her that he'd be back shortly. Aramis, d'Artagnan, Constance and Anne Maurice were going ahead to the waiting room.

She was left alone. No. Not alone. A gentle hand took hers and tucked it into an elbow. A soft voice murmured, "Come, Audelais … come with me. Athos has some duties which require his attention, but he'll be back shortly, and he's entrusted your care to me in the meantime." She was being guided along, and it took a few minutes for the voice to register. Treville. It was Captain Treville whose elbow her hand was tucked into.

"I'm a bad wife. Or ex-wife. Or whatever I am. I don't know what I am anymore," she said hoarsely as she haltingly put one foot in front of the other. Athos already told her not to say that. Or did he say that she shouldn't call herself a bad mother? She actually remembered very little of their conversation in the car … all she truly remembered was her little brother's cologne and the feel of his arms around her. A warm hand covered her own and she again looked up into Jean Treville's eyes, continuing, "I should be hysterical or screaming, shouldn't I?"

"Why would you think that?" Treville countered as they walked, and she frowned at him, not understanding the question. That was how she was supposed to feel and react, right? Treville went on, "There is no right or wrong reaction. There might be some reactions that other people might not understand, but the fact that you're not in hysterics, not screaming or crying doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you. It certainly doesn't mean that you don't love Maddox." She was quiet for several seconds, moments, hours.

"There's always been something wrong with me. I wasn't sure how to be a good mother to Tristan. Was I being overprotective? Was I not being protective enough? How could I be a good mother, or even a good wife, when I wasn't a good sister or a good daughter?" she finally told him. To her surprise, they stopped and her hand was dropped from Treville's elbow. Before she had a chance to process that, strong hands were gripping her forearms … not hard enough to bruise, just firm enough to get her attention … and she looked up, confused.

"You were a dutiful daughter, and a brilliant sister. Both Thomas and Athos have said so, and they would know, better than anyone else. Your parents were at fault, and Mariana Delmedigo," her brother's captain said firmly. She opened her mouth to speak, and he continued, "But you've only known that for six months. For more than twenty years, you lived with the belief that your presence was putting the lives of your brothers in danger … and so you thought you were at fault. Your mother was a cold bitch, and you feared doing the same to your own daughter. You haven't. Tristan is a wonderful little girl, and you even avoided falling into the pitfall of turning her against her father."

"She needs her father," was her somewhat blank answer. Treville merely smiled at her and took her arm once more, drawing her forth to join the rest of the odd little family she and Tristan had been absorbed into. She said a bit numbly, "Besides, Rob cheated on me, not on her. From the moment she came into the world, Rob has adored her." She fell silent, and then as something new occurred to her, she asked, looking up at the man whom her little brother most admired in the world, "Am I going into shock? I can't be going into shock, I was crying earlier."

"I believe you are. You just endured a very traumatic event, no matter how much you wish to deny it. You keep pushing it back, trying to reassure Athos, trying to reassure Tristan, but it keeps returning. There's nothing wrong with you, Audelais de la Fere … absolutely nothing. You were and are a wonderful daughter and sister, there is no doubt in my mind you were a fine wife, and you are an outstanding mother. Your resourcefulness most likely saved your ex-husband's life … if it didn't outright save him, then it bought him precious time," Treville said. And that was when it started … in her left hand at first. She stared down at her free hand, shocked as it began to shake. The tremors started to spread to the rest of her body, and she couldn't tell if she was shaking or shivering. The captain stopped in the middle of the hallway, gently moving them to the side, and drew her into his arms, folding his coat around her. He murmured somewhere over her head, "And now, the reaction sets in."

She couldn't speak … could hardly draw breath to speak. And after confirming that she was going into shock (' _that's why you feel numb_ '), Treville said nothing further. He just held her as she shuddered. Aramis had cleaned Rob's blood from her fingers, but she had Rob's blood on her hands, literally on her hands. She was vaguely aware of voices, high and worried, and of Treville's voice soothing, and then there was another set of arms around her. Another set of arms, and a head level with her own.

"You go ahead, Captain … I'll take care of her. I should have thought of this sooner," Constance murmured, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders and keeping that blanket in place with her arm. Treville stayed with the two women, and Constance murmured, "I need to talk to you anyhow. I think I might be pregnant, and you're the only mum I know. I need your help … I want to know what to expect." The pressure on her chest began to ease, and as it became easier to breathe, she managed to ask Constance what exactly she needed to know. Becoming a mother and knowing what to expect when expecting … that covered a lot of ground.

14AA41

Across town

Roughly the same time

Well. That didn't work out as he planned. Maddox was still alive. Perhaps he should have done it at a different time. Or maybe a different day? Done it a few minutes earlier, and the sniveling brat would have seen his face. Done it a few minutes later, and his wife would have seen him. Should have done it on a different day. And, knowing the Musketeers, getting to Maddox in the hospital would be damn near impossible. Actually, knowing the damn Inseparables, getting to the entire family would be damn near impossible.

That was fine, though. This was only the beginning. Giles Rochefort turned his attention toward another avenue of attack open to him. He'd observed the schedule of Maddox's wife when she picked up their daughter, and knew how to reach the brat's school. It was possible that they wouldn't expect an attack against the child … it was equally possible that they would expect anything. So … a scouting expedition would be in order. She was twelve, so it wouldn't be as easy if she was, say, five or six. Still. Challenges were good for him.

It would also keep d'Herblay off-balance, and his attention away from Anne. Rochefort's hands curled into fists at his side as he thought of that arrogant Musketeer putting his hands on Rochefort's Anne. It was bad enough, knowing that she was married to that idiotic Bourbon heir, Louis Roy, but for Aramis d'Herblay to be touching her? It didn't bear thinking about. A sudden pain in his palms alerted Rochefort that he was clenching his fists a little too tightly, and he forced himself to relax. She'd known he was there in Maddox's office … he had seen the way she was looking around the office, as if sensing the other presence there. She knew he was there, something that made him smile with childish delight. She had known he was there, his Anne had known he was there!

Maddox was still alive, but nothing was lost. Maddox's daughter was a potential target, and Anne seemed to know he was in Maddox's office. That was reason to be optimistic. The fact that Anne de Brueil was on site was somewhat worrying, but he was sure that he could handle her. Richelieu warned him to be wary of her, as she was the one who killed his niece Catherine, but Rochefort steadfastly ignored him. Richelieu thought he was calling the shots, thought he was controlling Rochefort, but he would soon learn that no one controlled Giles Rochefort.

He would kill Rob Maddox and Aramis d'Herblay. He would rob Athos de la Fere of everything that mattered to him before sending him to join his idiot brother Musketeer. He would reclaim Anne. He would deal with the remaining Musketeers (including that self-righteous captain of theirs). And he would even face down the feared Milady … he would face her down and he would win. And after all of that was done, after all his other enemies were vanquished? Then, he would go after Richelieu and finish him.

He would succeed where his own ancestor failed … the first Rochefort had fallen to the Musketeers, the ancestors of the men now bedeviling him. He would not fail, but _win_.

TBC

Additional notes: A review for one of the previous chapters requested to have Athos or one of the boys pick up/drop off Tristan at school. Guess what I just left an opening for?


	5. Chapter 4: Where We Go From Here

Author's Notes: Okay, so I've been hearing from fans who have seen season three in its entirety and are thoroughly NOT IMPRESSED (furious and even heart-broken in some cases). I've also been hearing about Pod-person Athos. I bring this up for two reasons … one, if anyone sees me straying into Pod-person Athos territory, PLEASE TELL ME! Number two, without having watched the episodes, and just what I've heard from people, if Sylvie shows up at all, it'll be as Raoul's mother. I mean it, y'all. This is a modern AU, so there will be some degree of 'out of character' behavior, but if I stray into pod-person territory, I need y'all to tell me. For me, half the fun of a modern AU is the challenge of fitting the boys into the modern era, while still keeping them themselves, and if I fail, I need to know, so I can take corrective action. Okay. That's out of the way. A little bit of news … I think I have a workable plan for my trip to Hungary next year. One issue I've been having is finding flights with a comfortable layover (an hour or less in Paris? NO THANK YOU!). Changing airports seems to have helped. I just need to run a few more tests, and build my bank account a little more (put in my vacation request, of course), and then we'll go forward. So, in this chapter, Aramis ponders Athos' dislike for Rob and briefs his brothers about what he and Anne Maurice found at the office; Porthos takes Tristan for a walk; while Athos continues to look after his sister.

Reviewer responses:

A reader: More about Athos' dislike of Rob coming up. In fact, remember that reference to Athos-whump after their first major confrontation with Rochefort? Well, that's going to set up another conversation between them-basically, Rob says ' _you don't like me and will never forgive me for cheating on your sister_ ,' and Athos agrees, and takes it further, explaining in explicit detail _why_ he doesn't like him … all this said while he's in a hospital gown. Rob laments once Athos returns to bed just how unfair it is he got the worst dressing down of his life from a man in a hospital gown, and who had just as much dignity and composure in that hospital gown that Rob has in a three-piece suit.

Chapter Four

Where We Go From Here

"So … why doesn't Athos like Rob Maddox? Is it simply that Maddox cheated on his sister, or …?" Ana asked as they sauntered into the waiting room together. Aramis allowed himself a small smile, because oh, that was a loaded question! Ana inclined her head, murmured, "It's 'or,' then." It was several different things, and Aramis glanced behind him to see what Athos was doing (and where Tristan was). Athos was down the hall, conferring with his Anne, while Tristan was with Porthos (naturally).

"That plays into it, but also, so far as little brother is concerned, brother-in-law is nowhere near good enough for big sister," Aramis answered. The corners of Ana's mouth quirked, and Aramis went on, "That's another thing. I'm not sure if there's a man that exists who is good for Joselais, so far as Athos is concerned. There's also the matter of … well, I know you've noticed how attractive Maddox is. He is a very handsome man, and that sets Athos on edge. He's too handsome, his smile is too bright … to Athos, he's a phony. And I'm not a hundred percent sure that he's wrong." And as Aramis talked, he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't attributing his own issues with the man in question to his brother Musketeer.

"He is _quite_ attractive," Ana allowed, "although he's not my type, I can see how someone would find him appealing. And I understand that Joselais has a weakness for men with dark hair and blue eyes." Aramis smirked at her and Ana rolled her eyes, smacking his shoulder as she did. He clasped his heart in mock-hurt, drawing an exasperated huff from his companion, who went on, "Also, he's a lawyer." Also, he was a lawyer, and while he was a district attorney (assistant district attorney, rather), Athos didn't trust lawyers as a matter of course. Hmm. He should have thought of that sooner. Athos never had much liking or use for lawyers (even the best ones, he observed once, reminded him of used car salesmen … and that was an insult to used car salesmen). Aramis pointed out that he studied to be a lawyer, and Athos merely arched his brow as if to say, ' _why do you think I have that opinion_?' Right. How foolish of him to forget.

"Keep in mind," Aramis cautioned her, "that these are just guesses. The only one who knows why Athos dislikes his brother-in-law is Athos himself, and I suspect he's still sorting that out in his mind. Besides, since Maddox and Joselais are sort of getting back together again, Athos doesn't want to close any doors between himself and his sister. I don't think there's much chance of that ... but Athos doesn't want to take any chances when it comes to his relationship with his sister. Not after finally getting her back."

He would have said more, but Constance was leading Joselais into the room, and Ana immediately joined her dearest friend. Aramis noted with some concern that the older female was shaking visibly, shivering even, and glanced at Constance. She mouthed, ' _she went into shock_.' Aramis nodded, stepping to the captain's side as Treville entered the room behind the women, followed by d'Artagnan, Milady, and Athos. Aramis frowned … where was Porthos? Treville motioned to d'Artagnan and Athos, and as the three drew close to Aramis, murmured, "Porthos has taken Tristan for a walk … I have a feeling she doesn't need to hear this, and I promised Porthos that I'd brief him later." Aramis didn't miss the look of pure relief on Athos' face at this bit of news.

In a somewhat louder voice, Treville said, "While we await news on Mr. Maddox's condition, I wanted us all to be brought up to speed on what we know so far. Aramis, you and Ms. Maurice will go first. Let us know what the situation is with the SAPD and what you found at the … at the district attorney's office. After we've discussed what you learned, we'll set up guard shifts at the hospital and for Audelais and Tristan. We're going to work with the idea that as the ex-wife and daughter of Mr. Maddox, they are both at risk. Aramis, the floor is yours." It didn't escape anyone's notice that Joselais didn't protest any of what the captain said. Then again, as proud as she could be (she was Athos' older sister, after all), she was unwilling to put her own pride above her daughter's well-being.

Aramis gave a small bow to his captain (causing both Treville and Athos to roll their eyes, even as d'Artagnan snickered and Constance covered her mouth with her hand), and held out his hand to Ana. Well, the captain _did_ say that he had the floor. He began, "First, Ana and I were there only moments after the police, and just as the EMTs were taking Maddox to the hospital. There were two remaining, one who was caring for Eddie Thackeray and the other was looking after Joselais." He nodded to the lady in question, who was clinging to her brother's hand.

Over the next fifteen minutes, he described what he and Ana found inside the office, including Ana's observation about evil. He also noticed Milady tensing when Ana spoke of that evil. Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. And once more, Aramis recalled what she told him about her encounter in San Francisco. His gut instinct was that she encountered the ghost of the first Milady, from whom Anne had taken her alias. But it wasn't a ghost who shot Rob Maddox … and it wouldn't be a ghost menacing Joselais or Tristan. No, this wasn't a supernatural evil at all, but a human evil … which was no less dangerous.

14AA41

One thing Porthos du Vallon loved about children (or anyone under a certain age) … the utter lack of bullshit. That was as true of Tristan Maddox as it was of anyone else. She knew her father was in serious condition. She knew that she and her mother were likely in danger as well. She even knew that she was being removed from the conversation … and she didn't care. At this moment, she was a twelve year old girl (who would be turning thirteen in a matter of weeks), who was having a sweet tea with … someone she liked. A lot.

They sat together in the hospital cafeteria, Tristan's head bent as she looked at … something on her phone. Porthos asked quietly, "What's so interesting?" She looked up at him with a shy smile and passed the phone across the table to him. Porthos accepted it with a thoughtful look … that turned into a smile of his own when he saw the pictures. It came from an excursion the extended Musketeer family had taken about six weeks after they arrived in San Antonio. Aramis had just gotten his Texas driver's license and finished work on modifications he'd made to his church van, and he wanted to take a road trip. Deciding to take a road trip was easy … figuring out where to go? Not so much … it was sensory overload.

It was Anne … Milady … who came up with the idea of choosing a theme, something they could all do together. That narrowed it down, but not nearly enough. It ended up being Rob Maddox who suggested hitting the King William Cultural Art District. Not entirely what Aramis was looking for (or anyone else, for that matter), but they ended up having a lot of fun. Although, for Porthos, a lot of the fun was listening to the women as they bantered behind him. Not that his brothers felt the same way … as soon as he heard his sister giggling with Constance and Milady, Athos sank further into his seat and drew his hat low over his eyes.

"That _was_ a good day. Especially the end of it," Porthos observed, drawing a giggle from his companion. While she didn't have a picture of Athos and Joselais asleep in the front set of seats, Porthos did … and he'd made sure to share it with his brothers, Constance, and Treville. The sight of their lieutenant, sound asleep with his cheek resting against his sister's hair (and her head resting on his shoulder in turn) was enough to warm just about any heart. Porthos was holding it in reserve for the next time a memory hit Athos in just the wrong way.

"Porthos … is it bad that I'm laughing?" the girl asked softly as he pushed the phone back across the table to her. He wasn't really surprised that the question was asked … he was actually more surprised that it didn't come up sooner. Tristan went on, "My dad was shot and he might die, and my mom found him, and I know how scared she was. How scared she is, still. I know she tries to hide it, tries to make me think that things aren't bad. Not because she doesn't think I can handle it, she just …"

"She's just trying to take care of you, pet. And, she doesn't want you to worry. Worryin' doesn't do a bit of good for anyone … not the worrier or the one bein' worried over. Mind, that's never stopped us from worryin' over your uncle, but that's why you shouldn't do it," Porthos observed. In an eerie imitation of her uncle, Tristan raised an eyebrow and Porthos snickered, "Damn, girl, give you a few years and you'll be as good at that as Athos! What I'm tryin' to say is, Aramis, d'Artagnan, Treville and Constance, we all worry over Athos … but it doesn't always stop him from self-destructin.' He's not as bad as he used to be … and havin' your mum back in his life has helped him even more."

Porthos wasn't jealous of Joselais for that … he didn't even resent her. The loss of his elder sister, his father becoming even more closed out from him, his mother being what she was … all of those contributed to Athos' insecurity and caution. You add in the whole mess with his wife and his brother, and it always amazed Porthos that Athos was still capable of caring for other people. The knot that was Tommy and Anne was slowly working itself out, but his parents were gone forever. If havin' Joselais in his life helped to heal some of Athos' hurts, so much the better. And Porthos knew that some of Joselais' hurts were bein' healed as well.

"You won't tell my mom about the times when Uncle Athos started self-destructing, will you? You think she might blame herself," Tristan commented, showing one of those flashes of insight that scared the hell out of Aramis. Porthos, however, nodded in acknowledgment. Yeah, she would blame herself all right. When she got the full story about her younger brother's marriage to Milady, she blamed herself for that as well. Milady put a stop to that pretty sharpish, though, pointing out that she wasn't around, didn't know to be around, and Milady had done a rather spectacular job of putting her marriage on the road to ruin with her own damn lies.

It was the first time Porthos and his brothers ever heard her take responsibility for her part in the destruction of their marriage. Always in the past, before they met up with her again in New Brunswick, she had blamed Athos or Tommy or Richelieu (okay, she had a point on the last one), but never acknowledged that hiding things from Athos shattered his trust in her. She'd asked Athos once, not long ago, if telling him some time before their wedding day … if he would have still loved her after he found out the truth. Porthos bit back the desire to tell her that he still loved her and always would, mainly because he wanted to hear what his brother would say. Oh, he had a fairly good idea of what would come out of Athos' mouth, but that wasn't the same thing as actually hearing it.

Athos looked up from what he was doing to stare at her for several moments while he thought about his answer. At least (and just when Anne was on the verge of walking away), he replied, "It would have still hurt me. But it would have also meant everything that you trusted me enough to give you a weapon like that, knowing that you might lose me because of it." All the color drained from Milady's face at his answer, and Athos looked away a bit awkwardly, calling for d'Artagnan to help him with something that had to be moved.

There was a part of Porthos which wanted to scold his brother for not comforting his wife … until he looked at Anne's expression, and realized that she didn't want comforting in that moment. She needed this time to compose herself, and she whispered, "And it's true. I wouldn't have lost him the first time if I'd just been honest at some point before Thomas learned the truth. I lost him because I didn't trust him." Porthos kept silent, realizing by the minute just why Athos left when he did. He knew Milady better than any of them … and therefore, he was the one who realized that she needed to process what she just heard.

However, that didn't prepare him for Milady to look up at him and ask, "How do I stop being myself, then? No matter what name I've used, I don't know … I don't know how to stop pretending. My love for Athos was the truest thing in my life in so long, and I loved him so much … I _still_ love him so much. How do I stop pretending?" Now _that_ was a loaded question, and fortunately, she didn't seem to expect an answer, because that was something she would have to work out for herself.

"Earth to Porthos!" Tristan's impatient (and somewhat worried) voice drew him back to the present. He blinked and she huffed, "You scared me, Porthos! I've been calling you for like ten minutes!" Porthos just offered her a Look, and she admitted, "Okay, maybe it was two minutes, but you zoned out, and I couldn't get your attention! You said there were other things I needed to know? About what's going to happen over the next few weeks?" Oh. Right. Porthos rose to his feet, and Tristan followed suit, taking his hand as he held it out to her.

"Since you and your mum are still targets, at least until we know otherwise, a Musketeer will take you to school every day. Normally, we'd keep the normal routine, but not in this case. It isn't that we don't trust your mum to take care of you, but she doesn't have the training we do. So, one of us will pick you up and drop you off, and when we pick you up, we'll either bring you to the Garrison or Gennesaret," Porthos explained. Tristan nodded, and Porthos went on, "Your dad's room will be guarded. If not by one of us or a cop, then by someone we trust."

No, Treville hadn't briefed him, but Porthos knew how things worked in a situation like this. Again, Tristan nodded, her fingers tightening around his, and she asked softly, "Porthos? Will my dad be okay?" Porthos didn't answer right away, as he led her out of the hospital cafeteria. The truth was, he didn't know, and he wasn't willing to lie to the girl. However, he also knew that sometimes, whatever kids imagined was far worse than the reality. And God knew this poor kid had reason enough to fear the worst.

"I don't know, kidlet. And normally, Aramis would be the one tellin' you this, but he isn't here right now. So, here's what we're gonna do … we're gonna find the chapel, and you're gonna light a candle for your dad, say a prayer for him. And then, we're gonna head upstairs and let Captain Treville tell us everything I just told you," he answered. Curiously, his answer made Tristan smile … but he would take it for the win that it was.

"Okay. Porthos?" Tristan asked and Porthos again looked at the girl clinging to his hand. She smiled at him shyly, saying, "I'm really glad you're with me." He pulled her in for a brief, fierce hug. He was glad that he was with her as well. A young'un didn't need to be hearing about the way her life would be turned upside down until her father's shooter was found … and she also didn't need to be alone. Yeah. He was glad to be here with her.

14AA41

After the briefing, the rest of the extended family filtered out of the room. Constance kept glancing over her shoulder at Audelais, worried, but allowed d'Artagnan to guide her out of the room. They would do something, somewhere else, for the next hour or so, giving Athos time to do what he needed to do. Aramis and Anne Maurice departed for parts unknown, while his Anne followed Treville out, a worried look on her face. That made Athos more than a touch concerned, but he would find out what was happening … later.

"You need to find out what Treville and Anne are talking about … I'll be fine," Audelais said, and Athos turned his attention to her sister. The trouble was, she wasn't even close to being fine, not even by his standards. She looked exhausted and her face with splotchy from crying. Add to that the tell-tale signs of being in shock, and there was no way Athos was leaving his sister's side any time soon. It was clear to him that she was suffering from PTSD, although he was fairly sure she would deny it. Be that as it may, finding your husband after he'd been shot and struggling to save him or even buy him time was traumatizing, and no amount of denial from Audelais would induce him to believe otherwise.

"I _need_ to look after my sister … whatever has Treville and Anne putting their heads together can wait. My only responsibility is to you right now. Porthos is taking care of Tristan. We don't have to talk. Just … let me hold you," Athos sighed. Audelais leaned into him, and Athos made a quick decision that he was glad his brothers wouldn't see. Not that it would change his mind, but he wasn't up to dealing with their teasing right now. Instead, he simply put his arm around his sister's waist and hauled her into his lap, drawing a squeak from her that made him smile, and said, "I seem to remember you doing this for me when I was little … turnabout is fair play, wouldn't you think?"

His sister's dark hazel eyes narrowed, and Athos merely smirked at her. He wasn't about to back down on this. His captain had told him as soon as they knew what they were dealing with that his duty as a Musketeer did not have to oppose his duty as a brother. Until they were out in the field, his duty as a brother came first. Well, they were in a hospital right now, rather than in the field, so his duty was to Audelais and Tristan, not to the corps (besides, he had a feeling his brothers would have had a few things to say to him if he'd tried to put his duty as a Musketeer first this time … none of them pleasant).

"That is not playing fair, Olivier Athos," Audelais said primly. Athos merely raised an eyebrow … and, her point was what, exactly? The corners of her mouth turned up and she admitted, "But, I won't say it's not welcome. I know I've said it a thousand times, but I missed you so much … you and Tommy both. And I need to remember to apologize to your captain later for falling apart the way I did." Athos couldn't help but roll his eyes at that because of all things to apologize for, that was the least of it.

"None of us are comfortable with crying women, Aude, but you don't have anything to apologize for. Besides, the captain knew what he was doing when he approached you," he answered and this time, it was his sister smirking. Athos rolled his eyes, muttering, "Oh, shush." That made Audelais actually smile (the first one of the night), and Athos said more seriously, "But you have nothing to apologize for, and Captain Treville will tell you that as well."

For once, his sister had nothing to say to that, and instead, curled more deeply into his embrace, burying her face against his neck. After a few minutes, she whispered, "Where do we go from here? What do we do now?" Athos kissed her forehead, considering the question. He knew how she meant it … but he had meant what he said about taking care of her. His brothers … their brothers … would set events into motion, what they needed to do to protect not just Audelais and Tristan, but Rob Maddox as well. He had utter faith in them. Yes, his sister wanted to know what they would do in the days and weeks ahead, but right now, he was more concerned with this moment.

For that reason, he answered in an equally soft voice, "Now? Now, I think it's long past time you told me about how you met him … your husband, I mean." Athos was more aware of his brothers' discussions, and he was equally aware of Aramis' theories on why he didn't like his brother-in-law. And as per usual, he was both right and wrong. He had many reasons to dislike Robert Maddox … he had been provided with many. And Aramis was right about one key factor: he didn't think the lawyer was anywhere near good enough for his sister.

But, his sister had chosen him, and no matter how much Athos disliked it, he would accept it. He would accept it, because he wanted his sister in his life (never wanted to lose her again) and because more than simply loving her, he also trusted and respected her. If she loved her once and future husband, there had to be a reason. Athos didn't have to like him … he didn't have to trust him … but he had to respect his sister and her reasons.

Audelais pulled back a bit, frowning a little as she observed, "I never told you that story? I thought for sure I did. Oh, well. Well, I met him on the day I swore my oath as a new American citizen. Rob was a law clerk at the time, and he was helping the judge who swore us all in. I remember I thought he was the most handsome man I'd ever seen, and so I headed in the opposite direction as soon as he seemed to be heading my way. Imagine my surprise when he intercepted me! He asked if I was looking for my family … and from the moment I told him that I was by myself, he wouldn't leave my side. Even with that, it took him months to get me to agree to a date. Like I said, he was so handsome … what could he possibly see in me?"

Not for the first time, Athos wanted to strangle his mother and anyone else who had a hand in his sister's view of herself. Instead, he kissed her temple and murmured, "The most beautiful woman there, no doubt. Tell me more, sister mine … I want to know everything except what transpired in your bedroom." Audelais blushed and ducked her head.

"You may regret asking that question, brother mine … but, as you wish," she answered. She bit her lower lip thoughtfully, before beginning, "Like I said, it took him six months to get me to agree to a first date. I'd let him take me out for coffee, or meet him for lunch, but no real dates. I wasn't ready, you see? And then, there was a festival in the King William Cultural Art District. I was tired of being afraid … so tired of being afraid. So, when Rob asked me if I'd like to join him for the festival, I said 'yes.' And that … that was the beginning."

No, Athos didn't like his brother-in-law one bit … but he would damn well make sure that it didn't end here. His sister would have the chance she wanted, to see if she and Maddox could still make it work. And his niece, she deserved to grow up with both her parents. Athos made a vow then. The next time Maddox's assailant tried to hurt a member of Athos' family, he would _end_ them.

TBC


	6. Chapter 5: Fangs of a Wolf

Author's Notes: Wow. In the 'stranger than fiction' category, I learned recently that there was a real-life Eugenie de la Fere in my father's hometown while he was growing up. There were three children … the daughter and one son were ignored, while the other son was fawned over and adored, and she had Eugenie's sense of entitlement. When I heard the story, I could only think, ' _holy crap. You mean she actually existed_?' What's really terrifying is, I think Eugenie was actually nicer. Here's something equally terrifying … I had the first glimmers of how the final confrontation with Rochefort plays out. And, even better, I have the first one outlined! As things stand now, that will be the next chapter. A little hint: Athos is hurt while protecting Tristan from Rochefort. So, in this chapter, d'Artagnan finally gets a chance to speak; Constance lets something slip (okay, not really a slip); and Richelieu starts to realize he may have made a mistake with Rochefort.

Reviewer Responses:

A reader: Athos in protective mode is awesome, and such fun to write (and I'm really looking forward to writing hurt!badass! Athos). After I had such problems with the audio on the first episode of season three, I kinda gave up. It takes a lot of the fun out of things if I can't hear their voices. Once it airs, I'll watch the rest of season three … it's just that after the mess that was _Torchwood: Miracle Day_ (a season that still leaves a bad taste in my mouth, five years later), what has been seen can't be unseen. Between it and _MI-5/Spooks_ , I'm just a wee bit wary (I'm still so disgusted with MD, and one particular character in the show, that I can't even begin to discuss the issues there, and _MI5/Spooks_ completely destroyed a character and in such a way that even viewers who weren't fans of the character were going whiskey-tango-foxtrot, over). The more I work on this story, the more Anne keeps up her commentary about her experiences in San Francisco, so it looks like ' _What I Can Be_ ' will get written. And I really need a cool name for this series, aside from _Modern Musketeers_. Hmm. I need to think about that.

Chapter Five

Fangs of a Wolf

"You are jealous."

It was the first words they'd spoken since leaving his mentor along with Athos' sister. And because he was in a cranky mood, he was quick to retort, "No, I'm not." His wife raised an eyebrow at him, a gesture that so reminded him of their shared brother, it made his heart hurt. With a sigh, d'Artagnan admitted, "I suppose I am. And the worst part of it is, I don't have any reason to be … any right to be."

"I wouldn't go that far," Constance observed, "but you really don't have to be jealous. Athos is capable of loving many people. Just look at us. But that's not the problem, is it? Usually, Athos' personal and professional lives are separate. He has his time with us, and his time with sister … but now, the personal and professional are converging. Right now, he's both Athos the Musketeer and Athos the younger brother." The elevator doors opened and Constance dragged him forward, toward the cafeteria.

"I know. I just … it's stupid, I know. And I'm worried about Athos," d'Artagnan admitted. And that made even less sense, because hello, this was Athos they were discussing! However, his wife's smile was sympathetic, rather than pitying. As they drew closer to the cafeteria, they noticed Porthos and Tristan approaching. Without a word, Constance opened her arms to the girl, and Tristan stepped into his wife's embrace without a word. Porthos squeezed his shoulder as Constance comforted their … niece? To d'Artagnan, she was more like a little sister … if he had a sister who was ten years younger than he was.

"There's no news yet, sweetheart, but I have faith in your father and in your mum," Constance murmured into Tristan's hair. And he knew that he was jumping the gun, but d'Artagnan couldn't help but think about Constance with their own child. He had only to think about the way she fussed over them, and her mother hen tendency when it came to eager young recruits (or, as Aramis had taken to calling them, baby Musketeers), and the idea of his Constance as a mother made his heart beat a little faster. Of course, that also involved him becoming a father, and he wasn't nearly as sure about that (really not sure about that).

"I know. I'm still scared, though," Tristan answered, her voice muffled by Constance's blouse. The youngest of the Musketeer brothers thought of himself after his father died … and reminded himself sternly that Rob Maddox would live. The girl sniffed, adding, "But I know that if Dad tries to die, Milady Anne will probably drag him back to life." Actually, d'Artagnan could see that happening … of course, she would only drag him back to life, just to kill him again for scaring his wife and daughter. While he was still wary of her, he couldn't deny that the former headhunter truly cared for her sister-in-law and niece. Nor could he deny that she had very little use for Tristan's father on a _good_ day.

And Constance, bless her, answered, "That is probably the most true thing I've heard tonight, Tris. Milady Anne really would drag your father back to life, and I would help her. Go on up … your mum and uncle are together now, but I know she'll feel better when she sees you. Off you go, then." She gave Tristan one last hug, rocked onto her tiptoes to kiss Porthos' cheek, and watched as they headed back upstairs, hand in hand. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, kissing the side of her head, and felt his wife sag against him. Maybe Constance would slap him for this (highly doubtful), but it had to be said.

"You were wonderful with her … I don't know if you're ready. I don't know if I'm ready for that matter. But when the time comes, I think you'll be an amazing mother," d'Artagnan whispered into her hair. She froze in his arms, and for a moment, he was afraid that he'd stuck his foot in his mouth up to his hip (a phrase he'd picked up from Tommy de la Fere … which he, in turn, picked up during his travels. It was a phrase d'Artagnan liked a lot … it was incredibly descriptive). But the face Constance turned to him was anything but angry.

"Do … do you really mean that?" Constance asked slowly, almost shyly. He nodded … why would he have said it, otherwise. Constance swallowed hard and said bravely, "I … I think I might be pregnant, d'Art. I've bought the test, and I was getting ready to … but then we got the call and …" It took d'Artagnan a few minutes to make sense what his wife had said. And then he couldn't breathe. And then, it was Constance who couldn't breathe, as he swept her into a fierce embrace, followed by the most passionate kiss he was capable of giving. Once he broke the kiss, she whispered, "You're okay with that? Wh … where are we going? The cafeteria is in the other direction, d'Artagnan!"

"This is a hospital, Constance … there has to be a pregnancy test somewhere in this place," was his answer as he towed his wife along. Constance thought she was pregnant. The terror he'd experienced only moments earlier at the thought of being a father had vanished, overwhelmed by joy. Fear could come later … much later, after Constance's thoughts were confirmed. Constance giggled, slipping her hand into his as they began looking for the pharmacy … or even a gift shop. If he was to be a father, he had to know as soon as possible, so he could start taking care of his wife and child properly.

A4114A

Montreal, Quebec

Same Time

Armand Richelieu stared at the receiver still in his hand, utterly dumbfounded. Already, resentment was stirring in his chest, because 'dumbfounded' was a sensation he had little experience with. After a moment, he placed the receiver back in its cradle with excruciating gentleness. His emotions swung from resentful to stunned and back against. Rochefort … had hung up on him. He had hung up and told him that he wasn't a puppet for anyone, and certainly not for a man who was too much of a coward to take revenge for himself. From this moment forward, he would carry out this mission as he saw fit. And he would start by going after Maddox's daughter Tristan. Easy prey, he called her.

Richelieu was not even remotely sentimental; however, he did have standards and he did have lines that were to never be crossed. He opposed the targeting of the young girl not just because she was a child, but because to do so would bring the fires of hell down on them both. While Milady was not a maternal type, she'd grown fond of the young girl, and the child's mother was … quite fierce when it came to protecting her dear little Tristan. And admittedly, most of Richelieu's contact with mothers came from his interaction with Mariana Delmedigo, who was hardly a candidate for mother of the year (in truth, he actually thought Eugenie de la Fere, who was about as maternal as Milady, was a better mother than Henry's widow). Audelais de la Fere or Josie Maddox was viciously protective of her only child. That was, no doubt, the result of her late teens and Mariana Delmedigo's interference. And if Milady or Director Maddox didn't catch up with him, then the girl's uncle would be no less terrifying.

In truth, only weeks after he put his plan into motion, he was already regretting his … rashness. There were very few people whom Armand Richelieu loved. His sister was one … his niece was another. And yet, when her daughter was killed, while her husband ranted and raved and swore revenge, his sister … who had carried Catherine in her womb for nine months and then raised her to adulthood … instead counseled forgiveness. Armand stared at her in shock, and his sister murmured, 'I indulged Catherine. We all did. When I look back now, it's so clear that we raised Catherine to believe that she should never be held accountable. And now, because of that, my baby girl is dead. This former employee may have pulled the trigger, but our actions led to Catherine's death. And there has been enough death."

Armand wasn't inclined to listen to his sister at the time, but now … now as he stared down at the receiver he'd just returned to its place, perhaps his sister was right. And the uncomfortable revelations were still coming. There was a snort from behind him … when did someone come in? Richelieu would need a word with his security personnel. As he turned to face the interloper, his blood ran cold. It wasn't his security personnel whom he needed to contact, but an exorcist … because it was a ghost who stood in front of him, arms folded over her chest like she'd always done when he'd done something she found particularly idiotic.

"You know, Armand … I almost feel sorry for you. Yet another one of your plots have gone pear-shaped. But … I won't waste my pity on you. I'll save it for someone who deserves it. Someone like Tristan Maddox or her father, who are bearing the fruit of your stupidity," Adele Bessette snapped, advancing into the room. Armand could only stare at her in shock. She … what … how was she alive? The answer followed only a few seconds later. Milady. He'd given that mission to Milady, who reported … she was alive because Milady failed in her mission. No. Not failed. Refused to carry out, and then …

"HEY! I'm talking to you, you self-centered asshole! You helped to make this mess! You unleashed a murderer and a psychopath, because you couldn't face that your precious niece screwed up! And now, thanks to you, an innocent little girl is in danger. So, I'm going to ask you again … what are you going to do about this?" Adele demanded, smacking him full in the chest with her fist. She had small hands, but it still hurt. Or maybe it was the horror of realizing what he'd done.

He had assumed that he could control Rochefort, never guessing that the man might have an agenda of his own. He still hated Athos de la Fere, and still swore that he'd end Milady himself … but Tristan Maddox had no part to play in any of that. She was an innocent child (and he steadfastly ignored the little voice in the back of his mind that reminded that up until the night his parents were killed and suspicion was thrown on him, so was Athos de la Fere). But that didn't answer Adele's question. She was glowering at him, eyes filled with angry tears. He said hoarsely, "I don't know what I can do."

"Well, there's a bit of honesty there for you. Sit down and shut up, let me think … I might be able to figure something out that escaped that giant brain of yours. You've done a lot of shitty things, Armand, but this one takes the cake. And so help me God, if anything happens to that little girl, I'll make sure that her mother and aunt have a clear path to you. Let those two tear you apart, limb by limb … literally," Adele threatened as she began pacing back and forth.

Armand Richelieu was not a sentimental man. Nor was he a particularly compassionate one. And despite his nickname of the 'Cardinal,' he wasn't an especially devout man. But as Adele continued pacing, worrying her lower lip, he began to pray. Not just that he and Adele were able to come up with an idea that would de-fang Rochefort, but that Tristan Maddox would remain safe. She didn't deserve anything bad to happen to her, and Richelieu wanted all his body parts to remain intact and in working order.

TBC

Additional notes: The chapter title comes from a quote I found when I did a search on 'quotes about protecting children.' Yes, it's cheating, but it helps. The full quote is, ' _because when it comes to my offspring, I will fight with the fangs of a wolf and the claws of a dragon. And no one, or nothing, will stop me from protecting them_.' I couldn't find the name of who said it, but thought it was perfect for this chapter. First confrontation with Rochefort, coming up!


	7. Chapter 6: Rules of Engagement

Author's Notes: Okay, here it is, the much-anticipated first confrontation between Rochefort and the Musketeers (one Musketeer in this case, Athos). This chapter also marks the first meeting between any of the Musketeers and Tristan's friends (since I did have a request for such a meeting). There will be more … including a first meeting with Treville (snickers). I'm still not sure how that one will go, but I'm ninety-nine percent sure he'll have an admirer among Tristan's teachers. Maybe her soccer coach? Hmm, I like that idea … I like that idea a lot. Treville should get some love, too. Maybe a Marine who retired from active duty and who now coaches her niece's soccer team? Oh yes, that will do nicely. Translations for Spanish will be found at the end, with the additional author's notes. So, in this chapter, Athos picks Tristan up at soccer practice (and gets ogled by her friends); Rochefort makes his move; while Tristan is forced to discover her inner Musketeer when things go spectacularly pear-shaped.

Reviewer responses:

Guest: The requested Athos/Milady one-on-one time is coming up … not in this chapter, but the next. Neither of them have been really ready for the conversation that needs to take place to move forward and truly reconcile, but with him out of commission for protective duty, things are coming to a head. I'm still mentally planning that out.

A reader: Would you believe that Constance was telling me exactly what to write in that section? (nods) She was. I'd go to write something, and she'd say, ' _no, no, no, this is how you should do it_!' Since I ignore Constance at my own peril, I'd correct it and damn if she wasn't right. She usually is. And yes, 'baby Musketeers' takes on a whole new meaning here. The prequel _will_ be written (Anne was smirking at me when I finally caved, as she knew I would), along with one more full-length story which will deal with the return of Mordaunt and also features the Legacy. That has yet to be titled, along with this series as a whole.

Chapter Six

Rules of Engagement

St. Ambrose Junior High School

San Antonio, Texas

Three Days Later

Over the next few days, the Musketeers and their extended family worked out a schedule to ensure that at least one of them was with Tristan at all times. As soon as Constance and d'Artagnan announced that their pregnancy test came back positive, she was removed from the rotation. There was no point in putting one child at risk to protect another, Treville observed, and Joselais agreed immediately. Besides, while Constance was just as much of a bad-ass as Athos' Anne, her bad-assery served them better with her laptop.

Well … mostly. When d'Artagnan announced his impending fatherhood to his brothers, Porthos was amused to comment that, ' _our whelp will have a whelp of his own_.' Constance's eyes narrowed and she punched his shoulder, demanding that he never refer to her baby as a 'whelp' again. And Aramis couldn't help but point out that Treville would be a grandfather in about six or seven months. That provoked a smile that Athos would have termed 'silly' on anyone else except his captain. But his dear brother was right … this baby would have a grandfather in Treville, and several aunts and uncles, along with a doting cousin in Tristan.

The celebrations would continue, especially when Maddox started showing signs of improvement, but the Musketeers still had a job to do … a job that meant the difference between life and death for Athos' family. Three days after the shooting and the revelation of Constance's pregnancy, the Musketeer lieutenant was picking up his niece after soccer practice in her mother's Explorer (since his sister would kill him if he picked Tristan up on his Ducati, and his Alfa Romeo was too compact). She had an art project due in two days, and while half of the project was done, the other half was still pending. That part would be done after soccer practice.

Athos' purpose today would be twofold … number one, protect her from whoever was gunning for her father and number two, make sure she didn't fall into a well or something equally nerve-wracking while she was working on her art project. Since she would be taking pictures of abandoned buildings in San Antonio and its environs, that was more likely than he was willing to chance. As he pulled up to Tristan's school, he checked the surroundings and nodded politely to the traffic guard. A week after the move from Montreal to San Antonio, Audelais took the Musketeers to St. Ambrose to meet the crossing guards, the teachers, and the administrators, and to add their names for Tristan's emergency contacts.

According to Audelais, St. Ambrose was affiliated with her parish, although it didn't bear the name of the church and wasn't technically a private school … and, by extension, to Gennesaret. They probably would have figured that out as soon as they saw Philip Callaghan, but the information was appreciated anyhow. As Tristan and some of her friends approached, his niece caught sight of him and waved wildly. She said something to the girls with her and led the way to the Explorer. She poked her head inside the window, saying breathlessly, "Hi, Uncle Athos … I just need to put my stuff in back and I'll be ready to go. These are my friends … everyone calls them the three 'L's.' This is Luz, that's LaToya, and this is Lily beside Toya. This is my Uncle Athos, he's gonna be taking me to do my pictures today."

Athos found himself on the receiving end of three pairs of eyes. Three pairs of …admiring eyes. The girl Tristan identified as Luz said, "Oh, he's yummy! You are so lucky, Tristan, to have such a hot uncle!" Much to his consternation, Athos felt blood rushing to his cheeks, and not for the first time, cursed his fair skin. And Tristan, the little traitor, just smirked. Luz added, "Tan lindo … tan, tan lindo!" The other two girls giggled at that, and Athos allowed an eyebrow to arch. He didn't expect it to work on the girls, not the way it did on his brothers, however …

"Muchas gracias, señoritas, pero tengo una esposa," Athos countered, and smirked to himself when Luz's jaw dropped. Lily giggled and Toya snorted in amusement. As Tristan climbed in beside him, she was laughing too, and Athos added, "One of my brother Musketeers is half-Spanish, and what my high school classes didn't teach me, he did." Including the more … naughty words and phrases. Although, he still snickered when he recalled Aramis' face when Audelais responded to Aramis telling Porthos to ' _besa mi culo_ ,' throwing over her shoulder, _'I doubt if you're his type, Aramis, but I'm sure Porthos will correct me if I'm wrong. What? I've lived in Texas for nearly twenty years and I took Spanish in high school once I left home. You shouldn't be so surprised when I know what you're saying_.' No … no, he shouldn't.

And Tristan told her friends, "Yeah, he's cute _and_ smart. I'll see y'all tomorrow! If you see Eva, tell her I hope we didn't scare her aunt off … I like her!" The girls laughed and moved away, Luz still pouting a bit … whether it was because he answered her in Spanish or because he regarded himself as married, he wasn't sure. Keeping an eye on the cars and pedestrians, he moved carefully out of his parking space, eyes shifting about for the aforementioned pedestrians and cars to ensure that he got a good look at them all.

It never occurred to him to look at the top of the building.

14AA41

Top of St. Ambrose Gymnasium

Same time

It was a universal truth, Gilles Rochefort had discovered … you put on a uniform of any kind, and no one questioned if you should be there. He still wasn't sure if that was because people looked through you if you wore a uniform or because they assumed that if you had the uniform, you were legitimate. That was a very foolish assumption, as uniforms of any kind were easy to access, if you knew where to look … which he did. Nor did he take the uniform from the custodian he had murdered … blood stains were entirely too noticeable.

His plan to gain access to Maddox's brat was complicated a bit when one of the other custodians questioned his presence. More to the point, she wanted to know where 'Greg' was. Rochefort just told her that he called in sick, and Rochefort was filling in until he got better. It helped that he mentioned the name of the temporary service that the school used. He also made sure that he avoided her, and did just enough work to avoid further suspicion. And then, as soon as he was able, he made his way to the roof. This was actually something that he'd been planning for some time. He'd first noted Josephine Maddox's car … and then, when she picked her daughter up from school or soccer practice. Even before he finalized the preparations he would need to stalk and shoot her ex-husband, he'd been planning this stage of his revenge. One, because even if Maddox survived the shooting, an attack on his daughter would hurt him and two, it would keep the damnable Musketeers distracted while he put things into place to bring Anne back to him.

As soon as the Ford Explorer pulled away from the curb, Rochefort was on his way down from the roof, and heading for his own car. He wasn't worried about losing the truck … he knew there was only one way out of the school campus. He had to give Maddox's ex-wife credit … she never took the same route twice. He didn't know if it was her years being married to a district attorney or her close relationship with the local police department, but she was smart enough to realize that being predictable could get her killed. However, there was nothing she could do about the entrance or exit to the junior high and high school, and that was where he had the advantage … especially since he parked near said exit.

Once he got to his car, it took very little time to pick up their trail. He was a little surprised that the Maddox woman kept losing him … if he didn't know better, he would say she was married to a cop, rather than a lawyer. But then, they started heading out of the city, and it became far easier to keep tailing them. He muttered under his breath, "What the hell are they doing? It's after soccer practice, they should be heading to the Garrison or back to the house, or even some place to eat." On the other hand, her ex-husband had been shot recently … it wasn't such a stretch to think that maybe la femme Maddox realized she might be in danger as well.

It wasn't until they reached their destination that Rochefort realized that all this time, he hadn't been tailing Josephine Maddox at all … but her younger brother, Athos de la Fere. As de la Fere and his niece exited the Explorer and headed for an abandoned building, Rochefort began to smile. Oh. Oh, this was even better. It wasn't Maddox's ex, true, but taking out their lieutenant would more than distract the Musketeers … it would utterly demoralize them.

His smile broadened as he reached under his seat for his gun, the one given to him by Richelieu when his release from prison was arranged. According to the laws of this country and the laws of this state, he wasn't allowed to have a gun, because he was a convicted felon, but that didn't prevent Richelieu from getting one for him. He hadn't asked at the time … hadn't cared, but he was curious now, now as he stalked toward the uncle and niece. The girl was gesturing wildly, her cell phone in her hand, and de la Fere was listening intently, glancing around every few minutes. He knew. He knew Rochefort was here … he could feel him, but couldn't figure out where the danger was.

It was for that reason that Rochefort kept back, even as Tristan Maddox put away her cell phone and pulled out her camera. Ahh … now he started to understand. A school project, was it? Better and better. As the child explored the property, her uncle trailing behind her warily, Rochefort judged it was time to make his move. He knew that he could never take Athos de la Fere in a fair fight … but that was why he had his revolver. To even the odds, in his favor. He called, "A lovely day to take pictures."

Every muscle in de la Fere's body stiffened, and even as he turned around, he was shifting to protect his niece. The girl came forward, obviously curious, but stopped obediently when her uncle extended his arm. With the girl still behind him, de la Fere turned his full attention to Rochefort. He didn't speak at first … instead, his eyes moved from the top of Rochefort's head to the boots he now wore, clinically evaluating him at every turn. At last, de la Fere looked him in the eye, inclined his head, and observed coolly, "Rochefort. So, you've slithered out from under your rock. I take it you're the one who shot my sister's husband three nights ago."

There was a soft gasp from the girl de la Fere was protecting, but nothing more than that. Rochefort shrugged, answering, "I am. The bastard put me away. I took payment for the years in prison out of his hide. Now, I'm going to take his daughter away from him." Now de la Fere's arm dropped and he made a gesture with his hand. It obviously meant something to the girl, because she took off running. Rochefort briefly toyed with the idea of shooting her as she ran, but decided against it. Just this once, it would be pleasure before business.

"With the idea that you'll eventually get Anne Maurice to join you, after you've eliminated my brothers and me," de la Fere said coldly. All of this was somewhat predictable, but Rochefort would have been disappointed if he got any other reaction. With a smirk, he raised his pistol and fired a round through the troublesome Musketeer's shoulder. The impact spun him halfway around, but de la Fere stayed on his feet. Pale, sweating, but on his feet … and steady. Damn. He rasped out, "You want my brothers? You want my niece? You'll have to come through me."

Rochefort smirked and tucked his revolver away, answering, "I wouldn't want it any other way." He lunged, and de la Fere sidestepped, far quicker than a man who'd just been shot should be able to move. Rochefort growled, but managed to stop before he hit the ground. Oh, he'd make de la Fere pay for that! He charged again, and this time, de la Fere stood his ground. But even as Rochefort plowed into the wounded Musketeer, he had the uneasy sense that he was playing into de la Fere's hands.

14AA41

Run, her uncle had signed to her, and so she had run. But not for her safety … no. No, she ran for her uncle's safety, and to find a weapon. Something, anything, she could use to help her beloved uncle. And as she ran, her fury and terror giving her legs power and keeping them steady, Tristan was wailing inside at the loss of what had been a nearly perfect day. Her coach had retired unexpectedly after leading the team to the playoffs twice, and they'd had interims coaches … until today, when Eva's aunt Miranda stepped up. She was a pretty lady, around the same age as Tristan's mom. She'd been a Marine for twenty years, retiring recently and returning to her home town. And Eva's teammates loved her.

And then, she'd had a wonderful conversation with her uncle as they drove through San Antonio, taking pictures of abandoned houses for her art project. It was her dad's idea … comparing the abandoned buildings of now with what they were. And the man Uncle Athos was even now confronting was the same man who shot her father. He was improving daily, but he'd almost died … he'd almost died on the table. And her uncle was already hurt. She couldn't leave him to fight alone … she had to find something to help him!

This was … this was a hospital, right? Someone had to take care of the grounds, right? A shed. She had to look for a shed … a small building … there! Tristan sprinted toward the building, half afraid to glance over her shoulder, half afraid that she would feel the burning sensation of a bullet tunneling into her flesh. But she reached the shed, mentally thanking God and anyone else who was listening that the door easily gave way. Tools … what could she use as a weapon?

Trowel? No, too small. Mower? Way too big. Garden tools? Ugh, no! Her eyes fell upon the shovel. Tristan had a mental image of smacking her father's shootist with that shovel, and a nasty smile crossed her face. She grabbed the shovel, which was nearly as big as she was, and nearly fell on her butt when she tugged it free. But she kept her balance and ran out of the shed, raced back down the hill where her uncle was still fighting with the man he'd called 'Rochefort,' using every weapon he had at his disposal, but he was tiring. Before too much longer, he would get the better of her uncle, and then … no. No, she wouldn't let that happen!

With a wild cry, she swung the shovel, hitting Rochefort in the back of his head. He dropped like a rock, and Tristan dropped the shovel, staring in shock. It … it worked! But she had no time to think about that, because her uncle grabbed her hand and gasped, "We have to go!" She followed him numbly to her mom's truck, scrambled inside, and Uncle Athos started the truck, face white and lined with pain. She wanted to say she was sorry, wanted to … she wasn't even sure. She felt scared and sick, and Uncle Athos squeezed her hand with his free hand, the injured arm, whispering, "It's going to be all right. Call the others. I need you to stay calm a little while longer." Tristan nodded, and as she reached up to hit the On*Star to call the Garrison, she saw something in the rearview mirror … a car. Uncle Athos saw as well and swore under his breath, muttering, "Damn, I hoped we would have more time!"

It was Rochefort … he was coming after them again! His car pulled a little closer and Tristan could see his expression in the rearview mirror. He was coming after them again, and this time, he would kill them both.

TBC

(glares at Tristan) Okay, **that** wasn't where I intended to leave this chapter, but she put her foot down and demanded that I stop here. What's worse is, she's right. I'll try not to leave y'all (and them) hanging too long … I'd like to have two more chapters done before I leave for Indiana on the 12th of May, but like I said, next week is graduation, and things are going to get interesting (especially since the venue double-booked events, which cuts in on our set-up and preparation time). Still working out the surname of Eva and Miranda, but in terms of faceclaim, you can imagine Miranda as Michelle Rodriguez (originally, it was Patricia Velasquez, but since I already referenced _The Mummy_ movies, that wouldn't work. Damn). As promised, here are the translations:

"Tan lindo … tan, tan lindo!" So cute … so, so cute!

"Muchas gracias, señoritas, pero tengo una esposa." Many thanks, young ladies, but I have a wife.

'Besa mi culo.' Kiss my ass.


	8. Ch 7: Last Full Measure of Devotion

Author's Notes: I'd no sooner finished the previous chapter when Athos told me how I needed to start this chapter. And no, I'm not exaggerating that … Athos was very specific about how this had to be done and there was absolutely no arguing. You remember I said once that I don't argue with Milady? Well, when Athos gets a particular expression on his face, I don't argue with him, either. The title of the chapter comes from Abraham Lincoln's Gettysburg Address. It seems to fit the Musketeers, just as much as ' _all for one and one for all_ ' does. Oh, and one-shot alert … an idea I had while wandering around Wal-Mart today, trying to find a Mother's Day gift for my mom: Athos deciding to buy a Mother's Day card for his sister. No idea when it'll get written … maybe while I'm in Indiana next week? (shrugs) In any event, in this chapter, Athos gets some unexpected help; Tristan continues in her attempts to be a brave Musketeer; while the rest of the Musketeers (plus Anne and Audelais) ride to the rescue; and the two women who love Aramis make a pledge. And no, this will not be the last time the seventeenth century Musketeers make an appearance in any of these stories.

Chapter Seven

The Last Full Measure of Devotion

Bexar County, Texas

About ten minutes after the escape

He was fading fast, and Rochefort was gaining on them. But he couldn't give up, not when his niece's life was on the line. Through the haze of pain, he heard Tristan talking to whoever was at the Garrison … he really wasn't paying much attention to anything except the road and the voice in his mind, coaxing him forward, telling him that he could do this, that Tristan was relying on him. And so he kept driving, always aware of the madman in the rearview mirror. Rochefort. Rochefort was alive. The bastard who had menaced Anne Maurice and nearly killed Aramis was alive after all, and trying to take Athos' family from him … again.

He remembered now the case that put him away the first time … he'd done research on his brother-in-law while his sister was recovering from her own gunshot wound. He just hadn't realized that it was the same Rochefort … was his given name missing in the report? And how had he gotten out of jail long enough to come after the Musketeers the first time, or was he … Athos shook his head. It didn't matter, and it was distracting him from what was important. Beside him, Tristan was saying, "I'm not sure, we left the abandoned hospital about ten minutes ago, and Uncle Athos … oh. Oh, I forgot that. I'm sorry."

The captain responded, "You have no need in the world to be sorry, Tristan. I know you're scared, sweet girl … but you've been very brave so far, and we need you to be brave a little while longer. Aramis and Porthos are already on their way, along with your mum and Milady. Your job right now is to keep talking to me and take care of your uncle. Athos? Can you hear me, lad?" Athos managed a weak smile … when was the last time his captain called him that?

"I'm here, Captain. Rochefort … he's alive," he answered, not entirely sure if Tristan had already said that. That voice in his head was back, ordering him to concentrate on driving, _let Tristan do the talking, it will be alright, mon enfante_. It was curious, because that voice was speaking in French. Even so, Athos clung to that voice, because … he didn't know. But that voice hadn't let him down yet, him or the precious child in his care. Athos went on, "I'm heading back to the city, Captain, but Rochefort is right behind us, and I'm losing blood."

"I understand, son. Tristan, you have a very important job. I need you to call 911, and tell them what's happening. Aramis and Porthos will get there soon, but we need to frighten off Rochefort to buy us time. You tell them where you are … and Constance is triangulating your position now … you tell them who you are, and you tell them what happened. I'm counting on you to take care of your Uncle Athos until we can get there. And I know I can, can't I?" the captain answered. Athos was vaguely aware of his niece straightening her shoulders and answering stoutly that she would do that.

Athos smiled a bit to himself and forced himself to focus on the road in front of him and the maniac behind him. Although, maybe that was an insult to maniacs. He thought about Aramis coming face to face with Rochefort, and the corners of his lips quirked. He still didn't know how Rochefort survived their last encounter, but if Aramis had anything to say about it, he wouldn't survive this one. Or, they could just let Anne at him. Considering how they parted ways … his mouth went dry, and he heard Tristan say frantically, "Uncle Athos … Uncle Athos, stay awake! My uncle's eyes keep closing!"

"Keep him awake as much as you can, sweetheart," an unfamiliar feminine voice answered, "people are on their way. You said your name is Tristan Maddox, right? Are you Josie Maddox's little girl?" Athos wanted to tell the woman that his sister's name was Audelais de la Fere, but it was also Josie Maddox. She'd been Josie longer than she was Audelais, but she would always be Audelais to him. Tristan must have said yes, because the woman went on, "Thought so. Your mom always helps out the dispatchers … you don't forget someone who takes note of what you do. We aren't gonna let anything happen to you, or to your uncle, not if we can help it." _Emphasis on, 'not if we can help it._ ' There might not be anything they could do, as Athos knew entirely too well.

Tristan said something in response, something that Athos missed … because something behind him caught his eye. Rochefort … what was he doing? Tristan followed his gaze, and he would swear forever that he only missed what was happening because of the blood loss. His niece's eyes rounded with horror as she cried out, "He's going to ram us!" The words were no sooner out of her mouth when Rochefort clipped the Ford Explorer … just enough to edge it toward the side of the road, and send it rolling down the embankment. Athos had just enough time to think that Audelais now had three reasons to kill Rochefort, and then everything went black.

14AA41

Uncle Athos sat slumped over the steering wheel, his shirt now soaked with blood, and Tristan stared at him in horror as she unbuckled her seat belt and did the same for her uncle. Not long after he staggered into the driver's seat and started the truck, it had started to rain … that had turned into a driving rain. It was stuffy in the car, but there was no way she was about to roll down the windows. Especially not when she could see Rochefort himself staggering down the embankment. He kept falling, but getting back up again, and she whispered, "He's coming … he's coming for us."

"Hold on, Tristan … Constance is trying an experiment that will hopefully buy you some time," the captain said firmly. The dispatcher asked who that was, and Tristan hurriedly explained to Bess (as she was told to call her) that she had her uncle's boss on through On*Star. The captain added, "Tell her to cover her ears, and then you do the same, Tristan … if this works, it'll be loud." What will be loud? Nevertheless, Tristan relayed the message to Bess, and then covered her ears. Only seconds after that, she had her answer as loud sirens began to wail. Rochefort stopped in his tracks, sliding a bit in the mud … and then began scrambling back up the embankment toward his own car.

The sirens didn't let up for a good five minutes … it could have been longer, Tristan wasn't entirely sure how long it took. But in that time, Rochefort got to his car and sped off. It was awful of her, Tristan knew, but she hoped he crashed in the rain and died. And that meant a trip to the confessional with Father Philip. But right now, she had to worry about her uncle, and not the creep who shot him (and her father). She hoped that Miranda wouldn't be upset with her for getting blood on her soccer jersey, but her uncle's life was more important than having a clean jersey. Only a few minutes after Rochefort sped away, there was a new car above the Explorer … not a car, though. A church van. Tristan almost sobbed with relief as Porthos yanked open the door and unbuckled Uncle Athos. He offered her a terse smile, saying, "I got him now, baby girl … ARAMIS!"

At the same time, the passenger door was flung open and the oh-so-welcome sound of her mother's voice calling her name had Tristan turning in that direction. Mom stood there in the pouring rain with Milady Anne standing behind her. She lunged into her mother's arms, sobbing, "Mommy!" Her mother caught her easily. Tristan buried her face in her mother's neck, winding her legs around her waist. She felt Milady Anne's hand on her back, and that was good too, because her mom was here, and so were Uncle Aramis and Porthos, and Tristan didn't have to be brave any more.

"It's okay, sweet girl, I've got you. Anne, are the guys ready with Athos?" Mom asked, keeping her arms tight around Tristan's body. There was a quick conference, and then Mom was trudging up the embankment, Milady Anne at her back, keeping the rain off them both. Up ahead of them, Porthos and Uncle Aramis were easing Uncle Athos into the back of the church van where d'Artagnan awaited them. Mom said softly, "Stay with Athos, Anne … I've got Tristan." There was a soft inhale from Milady Anne, and Tristan wanted to protest, wanted to stay with her uncle, wanted them to stay with her uncle, but Mom was added, "We'll be in the seat ahead, so we'll be close, but I'm entrusting you with my little brother."

Milady Anne's, ' _thank you_ ,' was breathed, rather than spoken, but even with Mom's words, she didn't join Uncle Athos until Mom carried Tristan aboard the church van. Mom kissed the side of her head, just as she did when Tristan was a very little girl, and was fighting going back to sleep after a bad dream. She sat down in the very last row, just ahead of where Uncle Aramis usually kept the wheelchair and wrapped a warm blanket around Tristan. Over her shoulder, the girl watched as Uncle Aramis and Milady Anne cared for Uncle Athos, with Milady Anne pulling his head into her lap and cradling it gently as she stroked her fingers through his hair. He was so pale … so very pale. Uncle Aramis murmured, "Remind me to pay for Tristan's jersey to be dry cleaned … you did just fine, little one."

"She did awesome. Shhh, it's all right, Athos, you're safe … Tristan is safe," Milady Anne soothed. Her hand moved to Uncle Athos' jaw, drawing his head to one side until he could see Tristan. She offered him a weak smile, which he returned before closing his eyes once again. Milady Anne went on as Uncle Aramis worked quickly, "So, Rochefort has come back. Three guesses as to who he has come back for, and the first two don't count." He hadn't come back to kill her dad? The look on Uncle Aramis' face told her that the answer to that particular question was a resounding 'no.' He looked angry and frightened. Milady Anne went on, "You need to call her. Now. Let her know, so she can be ready."

Uncle Aramis still looked torn, but d'Artagnan leaned forward and pressed his own hands on the bloody cloth that covered Uncle Athos' shoulder, freeing up their medic to make his own call. Tristan didn't really care. Her mother's arms were around her, and her uncle was safe. Well … no. None of them would be truly safe as long as that monster was out there. She asked into her mother's skin, "I thought he was in jail … how did he get out of jail either time?" Her mother's arms tightened around her again, and Tristan snuggled even closer.

From the front, Porthos answered, "I got a few ideas about that, but that can wait until later, once we're sure Athos will be all right. The captain has been in touch with the 911 dispatchers, and the people she sent will be acting as our escort back to the hospital. Joselais, what the hell did you do that got them to move so fast?" There was affection and amusement and amazement in his voice. Tristan felt her mother shrug, and Porthos continued, "Anyhow, the captain said to tell you that Constance was also calling a tow truck for your Explorer, just in case. Mind, I wasn't paying close attention, but I figure it won't take much to fix it."

"My truck is the last thing I'm worried about. And I don't do that much, with regards to the dispatchers … just sent them a fruit basket to say thank you when Rob was shot … oh, and whenever I take stuff to the police or fire departments, I make sure there's enough for the dispatchers, but that's about it," Mom answered. Milady Anne snorted at that, catching Tristan's eye. She rolled her eyes, her smile an odd blend of exasperated and affectionate.

"That's all, she says … that's all. Joselais, we're going to need to have a talk about the way you downplay what you do to take care of other people," Uncle Aramis said as he finished his conversation and returned his attention to Uncle Athos' wound. Tristan closed her eyes and relaxed against her mother. She was safe. Uncle Athos was being taken care of. She didn't have to be brave any more … she could relax. As exhaustion began to claim her, Uncle Aramis said, "Oh, and Tristan? The captain said to tell you that he would be proud to be your Uncle Jean." Tristan allowed herself a smile as she drifted off to sleep. Uncle Jean. She liked that.

14AA41

Rochefort was back. He was alive, he was back, and he had tried to kill Athos and Tristan. Anne de Brueil closed her eyes, forcing herself to take deep breaths, when all she wanted to do was scream and scream and scream. In … out … in … out, until her nerves settled and her rage was under control. When she opened her eyes, she found d'Artagnan staring at her anxiously as Aramis put his phone away. She said quietly, "I'm fine. I'll be better once I get my hands on that bastard." She was already planning exactly what she would do to him.

"Tr'sn here … gotta b' c'f'l," Athos slurred and it took Anne a moment to puzzle out what he was saying. When it dawned on her, she didn't know if she should laugh or cry. Really. He had a bullet in his shoulder and got run off the road, and he was telling her to watch her language around his … around _their_ niece? But then she looked at his face, at his open blue eyes, and she couldn't laugh … or cry. Because in those beautiful eyes, she saw the sweet, innocent young man she'd married, instead of the shattered man she'd left behind.

She caressed his face, saying softly, "It's all right, Athos, Tristan is asleep. But I'll be careful of my language, and my threats when I'm around her." She was rewarded with a lopsided grin and his uninjured arm raised from the floor of the van. Anne took his hand and kissed his knuckles, murmuring, "Rest now, my love. You're safe. And Rochefort will never hurt you, or anyone else I love, ever again." There was wonderment in Athos' eyes as she spoke the dreaded 'l' word, but Anne couldn't take it back … didn't want to take it back.

Rochefort had tried to take Athos from her. She finally had him back, was slowly re-building her relationship with him as she courted him, and that bastard tried to take him from her once and for all? Like hell he would! Athos said in that pain-blurred voice, "Y' still love me? 'Ven after ev'r'thin?" Anne blinked back tears, because Athos shouldn't sound like that. Shouldn't be so shocked … hadn't she made it clear that she still loved him, that in truth, she'd never stopped? Athos added, further shocking her, "W'sn't a g'd h'sbnd t' y."

Aramis froze, but Anne shook her head at him fiercely. _No_. She would handle this. She whispered to her Athos, "You were a wonderful husband to me, Athos … I couldn't have asked for anyone better." She stroked his face as Porthos seemed to realize that his brother was badly off and speeded up, drawing them closer to the hospital. A glance up told her that Josie had half turned in her seat, so that her sleeping daughter was facing the window … and that she was watching them both steadily, her expression worried but determined.

And that was when Athos really took her breath away, protesting and sounding more coherent than he had at any point so far, "But y' didn't trust me. Had to be a bad husband if y' didn't trust me!" Anne rested her forehead against her husband's, because how could she answer that? He was right. She hadn't trusted him. She'd been afraid … so very afraid to trust the man she loved with the truth. Anne didn't try to meet her sister-in-law's eyes; they were friends, but Athos was Josie's brother, and she knew what the older woman would say.

Instead, she settled on a variation of the truth, telling him, "The lack was in me, not in you, Athos. I couldn't believe you were real … the girl I was, she couldn't believe that someone like you really existed and could really love her. I came to Pinon Deux to help Richelieu destroy your life, and instead, I ended up falling in love with you. Not because you were beautiful or rich, but because you were kind and loving and did your best to take care of the people around you. You did that because that's who you are, not because of what those people could do for you. And for years, I hated you for not living up to my dreams, but the truth is … the truth is, the boy you were then and the man you are now, you exceeded my dreams."

There was still so much to say … especially once he was coherent again. It was time, and long past time, for them to be honest with each other. Time and long past time for that festering wound to be lanced. Because the truth was, yes, he had hurt her terribly … but the truth was also that she hurt him. They both broke vows, though in very different ways. Athos blinked at her for several moments, then asked softly, almost child-like, "Y' forg've me?" Anne gasped a little, because dammit to hell, she wasn't ready to deal with this!

But Aramis was glowering at her, and even if he didn't think that Athos needed to be forgiven anything, his brother deserved an answer. She whispered hoarsely, "I forgave you a long time ago, Athos. But we can talk about this later. Rest, my love … just rest." Finally, mercifully, his eyes drifted shut and her shoulders slumped. And of course, that was when her phone rang. Tristan whimpered in her sleep and Athos jolted, gasping aloud in pain, and Anne hurriedly answered her phone before either could wake up fully.

"Is Athos all right? Is Tristan all right? Did you get there in time?"Adele Bessette asked anxiously. Actually, she was a bit surprised that Adele hadn't called her sooner, given recent steps she took to protect Anne's Musketeer family (a family that could have been hers as well, under different circumstances). Anne barely managed a ' _yes_ ' to all three questions before her friend added, "I don't want to know how many laws I broke today, but that doesn't matter. As long as they're okay. Just one more question … is Aramis there?" Anne offered another ' _yes_ ' in response and Adele released a deep breath before telling her, "Then don't tell him I'm alive. He's safer as long as he believes I'm dead. Richelieu knows the truth, but …"

"He'll kill you!" Anne hissed, drawing curious glances from the aforementioned Aramis and Josie. She offered a weak smile, lying, "A friend of mine. She played a prank on her former boyfriend." Which wasn't entirely a lie, now that she thought about it. She had asked Adele to watch out for Richelieu, to let her know what he was planning … not to confront him! Anne had very few friends … in fact, she could count the number of friends she had on one hand, and the idea of losing Adele, much less because Anne had asked for her help … she couldn't bear the thought of it. She had so many things to feel guilty about already …causing the death of a friend, one of the few she had … she couldn't do that.

And Adele snorted, "I don't doubt that he'll try, but I've already taken measures to protect myself. Anne, I know what Armand is capable of. He tried to kill me once, and he will try again, but that's not on you. Your responsibility is to your husband and to your niece. Just … promise me that you'll look after Aramis as much as he'll let you know. I know what he's like when it comes to such things. He's _such_ a man." Anne couldn't help the smile that curved her lips at that exasperated comment. He was. So was Athos. Adele added softly, "And if you'll do me one last favor … hug Tristan for me? While I was talking to her, she sounded so sweet."

Anne looked at the little girl sleeping in her mother's arms and smiled faintly. Yes … yes, she could do that. There were times when she wanted to pull Tristan into her arms and never let her go. She answered lightly, "That is easily done. Be safe, my friend." That was innocuous enough, and while there was a part of her which wanted to tell Adele in response to her ' _I'll try_ ,' that there was ' _do or do not do, there is no try_ ,' she was making both Aramis and Josie suspicious. And so she hung up, telling her friend that she would be in touch. It would take some time … they were now coming up on the hospital, and that meant another vigil, but she would contact Adele again, before her friend had to vanish once more.

14AA41

Condominium of Anne Maurice

San Antonio, Texas

Same Time

"You're leaving … and you don't want Aramis to know that you've been here, that you're alive?" a soft voice asked as she ended the call with Anne. Adele Bessette closed her eyes, breathing deeply for a moment. Athos was all right … injured, but he had a good chance of surviving. Tristan was all right … terrified and likely traumatized, but she would heal. With that family surrounding her and supporting her, of course she would heal. And then there was Anne. Anne, who asked her help in protecting her family, in protecting the man she loved even now. Anne, who had changed so much even from the woman who had pointed a gun at her head and sent a bullet skimming across her scalp in order to fool Richelieu into thinking that she was dead.

Adele had awakened, hours after kneeling in front of Anne de Brueil in that forest, with Anne leaning against a nearby tree. She'd stepped away from the tree and helped Adele to her feet, carefully tending to the bloody scalp wound, before driving her to the nearest hospital with a story even the dizzy and disoriented Adele realized that the staff didn't buy. But it didn't matter because they took care of her. Before Adele passed out again, she asked why Anne saved her. Green eyes stared down at her and she answered quietly, 'you owe me now, and I'll collect one day.' Funny, then, that Anne hadn't bothered to collect on that debt … and as far as Adele was concerned, that debt still hadn't been fulfilled. She'd helped to save Athos and Tristan because she wanted to, because Aramis loved his brother and the niece he hadn't known that he had. And because she loved Aramis, even now. She likely always would.

He moved on, as he had to, because he believed her dead. The entire world believed her dead, and that was what kept her safe … what kept those she loved safe. For today, she was Bess Dumas … tomorrow, who knew what name she would be using? But Adele Bessette was dead. Which brought her back to the woman who had spoken. Adele turned to face Anne Maurice. God, she was so young … so very, painfully young. But there was kindness in her, as well as beauty, and no doubt it was that kindness which drew Aramis to her just as much as her beauty did. Anne said again, clearly disturbed by the notion, "You don't want Aramis to know that you're alive? But why?"

Adele shook her head as she rose to her feet. She knew all too well that once Rochefort was put down, once and for all, Armand would come after her. She intended to be long gone before he even realized it. She hadn't yet decided where she would go … maybe back to Canada, maybe somewhere in the Midwest, where he would never think to look … maybe she would go to Europe. She answered quietly, "Aramis is safer if he thinks me dead. Safe from Richelieu … safe from all except Rochefort." All the color drained from Anne's face at that statement and for a moment, Adele feared that the young woman would faint.

But then, she rallied and lifted her chin defiantly. Adele couldn't help but admire her for that. The presumed-dead woman went on, still speaking quietly, "I would ask you to keep this secret for me. If Aramis knows that I live, he will look for me, and Richelieu will kill him." He would likely kill Adele as well, and judging from Anne's expression, she knew that as well. Adele started to leave her apartment, but had one last request to make of the woman who now held her beloved Musketeer's heart. She asked, "Take care of him? Please? He often says that his brother Athos doesn't take very good care of himself, but Aramis is equally guilty of that."

Now, Anne Maurice's smile was tender, affectionate, and exasperated all at the same time. Oh, yes, this was definitely another woman who loved a Musketeer. They had that effect, Adele noticed. But … maybe it was just the type of men whom they loved, whether they were called Musketeers or something else. Men who gave the last full measure of devotion to protect those they loved most in the world. All for one and one for all, indeed. Adele returned her smile and giving into temptation, squeezed Anne's hand, before striding to the door. Rochefort was still on the loose, and she still had a job to do … but she was steadily growing more confident that she could entrust the welfare of the man they both loved to this woman. She loved Aramis, as Adele did … and she'd suffered at the hands of Rochefort. It had to be enough.

TBC

Additional Notes: Yeah, Adele threw me a curve ball … they really need to stop doing that. I'm not sure exactly what she did … she'll only tell me that it was illegal. Which isn't to say she won't do it again. And, this won't be the last time we see her.


	9. Chapter 8: What a Fool Believes

Author's Notes: As he so often does, Louis decided to throw me a curve ball … he started talking to me yesterday during my lunch break at work. I still wonder if it's tied to the recent announcement that Ryan Gage will be attending this year's DragonCon (assuming he doesn't have to cancel due to work commitments). Quick side-note … after the announcement was made, I responded on Twitter how awesome it was that King Louis would be joining us … and he liked my tweet! That made me beam. I would love it if the rest of the cast showed up, but again, I doubt it … I don't think any of their schedules would allow it. So, in this chapter, Louis gets an extremely unpleasant shock from his younger brother with a name from the past; Rob resurfaces from a world of pain to encounter someone who shouldn't exist (and technically doesn't); while Rochefort is smarting over the shovel meeting his head. Poor baby … not. We'll get back to Athos and Anne in the next chapter.

Reviewer responses:

A reader: We're staying in Plainfield, although my nephew and his wife live in Clayton (which means, I'm sure, that I'll be seeing my former high school at some point. I hope so). And yes, definitely planning for late winter/early spring packing. I saw the storm … both my niece-by-marriage and her mother-in-law had to take shelter in their respective homes. One thing I don't miss, but we have bad weather here as well. In fact, a little over five years ago, a tornado blew through Sanford and Fayetteville (the cities I'm closest to). Oh, and I can't forget the hurricanes and the ever-so-often earthquakes.

Chapter Eight

What a Fool Believes

San Antonio International Airport

United Flight 1013, First Class Cabin

San Antonio, Texas

A few hours later

"This is your captain speaking … we'll be getting you into San Antonio a few minutes early. Local time is 7:25 pm, and temperature is 48 degrees as the sun goes down. We've been cleared for landing, so we'll have you on the ground shortly. Flight attendants, prepare the cabin for landing."

Louis had dozed off in the middle of the movie, awakening when the captain's voice filled the cabin. He glanced to his left, to find his younger half-brother staring at the touch screen in front of him with an intensity he'd always thought only Tommy's older brother possessed. Evidently, he'd been wrong. Louis sighed under his breath, but Tommy heard him anyhow and turned to face him with a half-smile, asking, "Did you sleep well, Louie?" He'd started using the annoying nickname after he'd heard Alex Moreau address Louis with the French pronunciation of his name. Evidently, she'd just wrapped up a conference call with the new head of the Paris Legacy House and was still thinking in French. She'd quickly apologized, but Tommy, in true little brother fashion, kept it up.

"You know they're going to be okay, don't you? I mean, Audelais will look after Tristan, Athos will look after Audelais, and the rest of the Musketeers will look after Athos. They'll be fine, Tommy," Louis stressed. His younger brother offered a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes, and Louis bit back another sigh. His younger brother had been like this ever since they learned the previous day about the shooting, but he'd gotten worse since they'd boarded the plane. While Gaston quite often drove him batty, Tommy did it in a different way … he was older than Gaston and lived a hard-scrabble life after he (not entirely) inadvertently helped to destroy his brother's marriage to the beautiful and dangerous Anne.

"I know. I just … it sometimes seems that I'm never there when my brother and sister need me. On the other hand, even if I am there, I make matters worse. I should have found a better way to confront Anne about her lies," Tommy sighed, sinking back into his seat. Louis couldn't argue with that … he also didn't have any business pointing fingers. He wasn't very good at taking care of his own siblings, except for Marie-Christine, and even that relationship was damaged because of her marriage to that twat. And Tommy had admitted in the past he'd confronted Anne as much due to his own jealousy as anything else. He loved Athos … always. But he really wasn't very good at taking care of his older brother. And he'd hated that Anne took better care of Athos than Tommy had.

Finally, Louis said softly, "We can't do anything about the past, Tommy. We can't. You can't change the way you reacted when you found out that Anne showed up in Pinon Deux to find proof that your brother killed your parents on Richelieu's orders. I can't change that I was an absolute shitty husband to my Anne. But we can do something about the present and the future. We can be there for Athos now, and we can do the right thing for Anne. Yes, you're right. I do still love her. I always will. But the more I hear from San Antonio, the more I think that she belongs with Aramis. Not only will he take better care of her, but he'll love her the way I never could … the way I couldn't bring myself to love her."

He paused, and because he was an older brother (one who really wasn't ready to let someone else, even a woman as attractive as his brother's widow), he couldn't help but tease, "You know, I saw the way you were looking at Kat Corrigan. Not that I blame you … she's a lovely woman. Mind you, she comes with baggage of her own … that crazy mother of hers, mainly." Tommy rolled his eyes, but didn't argue. Of course he didn't. Rachel Corrigan was crazy, and he actually had to remember to thank Tommy's sister-in-law for warning him about her. Why Nick Boyle didn't commit her to the nearest loony bin was beyond him (on the other hand, they probably didn't want her … doctors made horrible patients. So did psychiatrists).

"Kat and I are just friends. Not friends with benefits, not kissing friends, just _friends_ ," Tommy stressed. Louis just smirked at him. Yeah … right. He saw the way his little brother looked at the extremely pretty anthropologist. Tommy huffed and muttered, "As my dear sister would say, tend to your own knittin,' brother dear. Unless you want me to let it be known that you're trying to come up with excuses to ask your sister-in-law out on a date?" Louis narrowed his eyes at his brother, quietly swearing as the wheels touched down. Tommy merely smiled at him serenely, secure in the knowledge that he'd won this round.

Louis let the other young man have that knowledge for a few minutes, before saying, "Don't try that with me. Tell who you like … but don't think that you've succeeded in deflecting me. That's a defense mechanism I'm damn good at myself. I know you're afraid for Audelais and Tristan, especially if whoever shot Maddox plans to go after them next. I would never hassle you for that. But don't ever think that they're alone. They're not. Not any more." And never again, Louis knew, if Athos had his way.

But it was then that Tommy stunned him, saying quietly, "It's not just Maddox any more." Louis looked up from double-checking the seat-pocket in front of him … what? Tommy repeated, "It's not just Maddox any more. I got a text just before we took off, while you were scouting out the location of the restroom." Louis scowled at that comment, but didn't interrupt, because he had noticed that Tommy was a bit quiet when he returned from … from his scouting expedition. Seeing that he had Louis' undivided attention, Tommy dropped a bombshell on him, saying, "Athos was shot after picking Tristan up from soccer practice, by the same douche-canoe who shot our sister's husband. I believe you're familiar with him … Giles Rochefort?" Louis actually reeled back in his seat, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe.

Not only did he remember Gilles Rochefort (not Louis' most shining example of good sense, but he'd honestly been trying to do the right thing) … but he had a fairly good idea of what the man was after. He breathed, "Anne." He knew that Aramis would take care of Louis' ex-wife, but Louis suddenly found himself impatient to get off the plane, so he could make sure that Anne was truly okay. He knew what Rochefort was after … and he knew who sent him here. And assuming Anne de Brueil didn't get there first, he would make Richelieu pay dearly for this!

14AA41

Memorial Hospital

San Antonio, Texas

Roughly the same time

"You are a fool. Do you realize that? You are an absolute complete fool, and I take no pleasure in having you in my family. No, Raoul. He is a fool … quite possibly the greatest fool ever to cross my path. And considering how many fools this family has produced over the years, particularly when it comes to matters of the heart, that says a great deal indeed."

There were three things wrong with this picture. One … his pain meds hadn't kicked in yet. Two, there was a man sitting beside his bed, where Constance Lupiac had been only scant hours earlier … a man who looked terrifyingly like his brother-in-law, if Athos wore clothes better suited to the seventeenth century. And three, his brother-in-law's doppelganger had spoken French. Now, Rob had taken French in high school and he'd done fairly well (especially when it came to trying to impress the girls in his class), but he hadn't spoken French in years … so, he shouldn't have understood the Athos lookalike nearly as well as he did.

Who continued now, glancing at someone or something on Rob's other side, "No, I will not come away, Porthos. I have held my peace long enough, and it will be sometime before my namesake has the opportunity to make his displeasure known. I held back when that despicable cretin pawed my Audelais. I will not be silent now!" Rob blinked. Porthos? Namesake? Was he hallucinating? The Frenchman added, looking more than a touch exasperated, "Not only are you a fool, but you are a tiresome fool!"

Okay, now he was getting irritating! Rob demanded hoarsely, grimacing at the pain in his chest, "Who in the hell are you, and how did you get into my hospital room?" And when did he get his next bit of pain relief? That was the only explanation for this terrifyingly real (and terrifyingly surreal) hallucination. It was just … why would he imagine his brother-in-law dressed up like that? That was what really made no sense to Rob. His brother-in-law didn't like him, and Rob wasn't all that fond of him, either. Well, if the truth was told, he wasn't especially fond of either of Josie's brothers. Tommy, though, he could ignore most of the time since he was in San Francisco. Athos, on the other hand … he was too damn quiet (just like Josie was when she was angry), and his eyes were cold. Well, they were when he looked at Rob.

About as cold as the eyes of his hallucination was, really. Said hallucination was currently looking at him as if he was something he'd scraped off the bottom of his boot. And then, his brother-in-law's doppelganger spoke again, disdain almost literally dripping from each word, "I am Olivier d' Athos, Comte de la Fere … also known as Athos of the King's Musketeers, and it is my great honor to be the forefather of not only the current Athos de la Fere, but his elder sister, Audelais … toward whom you behaved very badly. Aramis, have done! We are not speaking of you and your affairs with married women … or mine, for that matter … but of my great-granddaughter, and the way this worm treated her!"

Okay, if the pain meds were causing these hallucinations, he didn't want any more! Except, he was due for his pain meds, so that couldn't be causing this. Rob squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment, hoping his brain would reset itself. Unfortunately, when he opened his eyes, Athos 1.0 was still sitting there, and still looking extremely unimpressed. The door opened and Constance Lupiac sighed, "You know, you could have been with your namesake all this time, rather than haranguing Josie's ex. Oh, wait, I forgot. You're a non-corporeal … whatever you want to call yourself."

The doppelganger shrugged elegantly, answering, "I do not subscribe to that foolishness contemporary society calls 'political correctness.' I am a ghost or a spirit, and I have never left Athos' side. Even as I 'harangue' my Audelais' foolish husband, I watch over Athos and Audelais and Tristan. My great-grandson's heart continues to beat. Tristan sleeps in her mother's arms. Porthos du Vallon and Aramis d'Herblay are conferring with your husband. And the two Annes? Oh, they make their own war plans."

War plans? What the hell was he talking about? And why had he mentioned Tristan? Shouldn't she be in school? No … the clock told him that it was nearly eight pm, and soccer practice was over hours earlier. But shouldn't she and Josie heading home for the night? Constance sighed and stepped closer to the ghost (whiskey tango foxtrot, over?), saying softly, "All of that is true. And I know you were with Athos during the ride here. I also know that this is your version of a shovel talk. But right now, I know I would feel better if you were with Athos more fully. I know his brothers, my brothers and my husband, would feel better as well, if they knew you were here. Besides. Maddox's due for pain medication, and you're incapable of pushing the button that will dispense it."

The doppelganger actually pouted and retorted, "Oh, very well! Just … swear that when you have completed your tasks, you will return to my daughters?" Constance inclined her head, even as she pressed the button that sent sweet relief singing through Rob's veins. The ghost … spirit … whatever the hell he was … smiled lightly and said, "Then I will go. And Constance? I am so glad you are having the life that was denied to your counterpart." With those words, the ghost disappeared. Rob looked from the vanished being to the woman standing over him.

"Not a word out of you. I'll explain everything once the pain medication takes effect and before you start getting loopy. The first thing you need to know is that Joselais and Tristan are both fine. In fact, your daughter is emulating your wife and is well on her way to becoming a pint-sized bad-ass," Constance began. As the pain began to ease, Rob also began to relax, a small smile adorning his face. He hadn't known that his wife was a bad-ass, but on the other hand, he hadn't been really surprised by Eddie's narrative when the young man visited this morning, telling him excitedly about how Josie had run up the stairs when the gunshot went off, and then prevented him from bleeding out (even if he did blush when he mentioned the feminine sanitary napkin Josie pressed to the wound).

As Constance talked, Rob had to admit that she was right … Tristan was emulating Josie and she was turning into a pint-sized bad-ass. Rob wished that she'd stayed hidden, rather than running to the shed and grabbing a shovel to help her uncle. But he knew if she hadn't done that, she would have ended up dying in that place. His little girl was growing up so damn fast. She was showing signs of her first adolescent crush … he saw the way she looked at Porthos du Vallon. That wouldn't last, he knew … eventually, she'd move onto someone her own age. She'd be going to the prom, and out on dates.

If, at the age of twelve, she had the presence of mind to grab a gardening tool to protect her uncle, what would she be like at twenty-three? He tried to imagine a twelve year old version of the young woman he'd met at the naturalization ceremony all those years ago, grabbing a shovel and running to the assistance of a family member and realized that it wasn't such a stretch. He could easily see a twelve year old version of his wife grabbing anything that might help and running to the assistance of someone. The revelation left him breathless, because he'd grown accustomed to seeing his wife as weak … as the weeping brunette who'd all but run from their bedroom when she …when she caught him en flagrante delicto. He'd described her as sweet but weak, even though she was stronger than he was. She was strong enough to remain faithful to her wedding vows, even after their divorce. Rob had fooled himself into believing that she needed him far more than he needed her. And now, he understood why Athos 1.0 called him a fool. Because that was exactly what he was.

 _Very good_ , that voice from before whispered, _now, what will you do with that knowledge? You stand on a ledge, Robert Maddox … tip one way, and you rejoin your family. Tip the other way, and you fall. But know this. Tip the wrong way, and you will not take Audelais or Tristan with you_. Rob closed his eyes, knowing that he wasn't hallucinating this time. Nor was this the product of his mind. He opened his eyes once more and said as he began a descent into sleep once more, "Ask Joselais to come to me when Athos is out of surgery." It was long past time for things to be said between them.

14AA41

Other side of town

Same time

His head was splitting … and the trickle of blood oozing its way down the back of his neck confirmed that this was not an exaggeration. That was the only explanation why the little bitch's distraction worked so well. He should have known that wasn't a real siren, as soon as he heard it, rather than a mile and a half down the road when he passed the Musketeers' church van (really? The priest-wannabe still had that thing?). Well. He would make her pay for that … would make them all pay for that. Just as soon as his head stopped hurting so badly.

He bent forward once more with the idea of cleaning up that scalp wound. Oooh, not such a great idea … why did the floor look like it was rising up to meet him? Maybe because it was? He grabbed the edge of the sink to stop his forward motion. Dammit, how in the hell had he allowed a twelve year old girl to get the drop on him? Yeah, he'd been fighting her uncle, but he should have noticed a little kid running toward him with a shovel, shouldn't he? With a groan, he sank to the ground beside the sink, because really, this was making his head hurt worse … and the cool tile felt good against his skin.

It was time he remembered why he was doing this … for Anne. So he could return to Anne, and give her the life she'd always deserved. He thought of Anne's expression if she learned he'd tried to hurt a child, and blanched. She'd never forgive him … Anne had always loved children, and he'd allowed himself to get distracted. He should have never followed de la Fere and his niece today. She was Maddox's daughter, yes, but she was his _daughter_ … not something she had control over. He'd wanted to hurt her to hurt her father, who had survived the gunshot wound. Instead, she hurt him … not just for trying to kill her father, but because he would have killed her after killing her uncle.

A twelve year old had gotten the better of him. Maybe he should have listened to Richelieu after all, rather than playing things his own way. But he wasn't good at being a team player … he was much better at acting on his own (on the other hand, maybe if he'd been a team player, he would have won against the Musketeers. Something he needed to consider. Later. When the pounding headache went away to the point that he could think). And then there was the matter of Anne's ex-husband. He'd been a prick to his wife, and Anne deserved better, but …

But he'd been good to Rochefort. After being released on parole, he'd gone to Montreal … a definite no-no, according to the agreement, but his parole officer had been in the hospital, and an interim parole officer had been appointed … a very young, very idealistic parole officer who was very easy to manipulate. By the time they realized he was gone, he was in Montreal and being pushed around by Richelieu's Red Guard. And that was the first time he'd seen her … his angel, his Anne. She'd immediately put a storm to things, demanding to know what they thought they were doing, before leading him inside.

He couldn't have created a better in into Bourbon … between Anne's kindness, and her husband's well-meaning desire to give an ex-con a new life, he'd had it good. Until he noticed the way the Musketeer Aramis looked at Anne … before his partnership with Anne de Brueil shattered under the weight of the love she still held for her husband … until he was discovered in Montreal by a Texas Ranger vacationing there. That Texas Ranger had joined forces with the Musketeers after Louis Roy refused to listen to Jean Treville about Rochefort … he had, in fact, threatened the Musketeer captain with removal if he kept up his warnings about the ex-con.

It was that Texas Ranger who physically pulled Rochefort away from Anne as he kissed her, and marched him downstairs with the Musketeers backing him up, as Louis Roy ranted and raved about his betrayed trust. That Texas Ranger was the next on his list once he succeeded in killing Maddox and Aramis, and reclaiming Anne. He had to keep that in mind, and not get distracted. That was what led to his capture in Montreal … he'd gotten distracted, gotten complacent. He was doing this for Anne, all of this for Anne. Rochefort could never allow himself to forget that again. This was all for Anne.

TBC

Additional Author's Notes: Okay, Rochefort is currently all over the map. I realized that I'd not addressed how it was that he was out of prison when the Musketeers encountered him. I'd initially gone with the idea of a work-release program, until it hit me that Texas? Montreal? Not really. So, I went with the good old parole violation. I'm actually a bit in shock that he realized that Anne wouldn't be happy with him for threatening Tristan. Maybe our mini-Musketeer knocked some sense into him? Nah, probably not.


	10. Chapter 9: Glimpses

Author's Notes: So, I thought of a series title that I thought would work for this modern AU: _One for All, All Forever_. Thoughts? I leave for Indiana in just a few hours, but wanted to provide this offering before we get on the road. In this chapter, Athos sees a strangely familiar face as he fights for his life; the two Annes talk; while Audelais tells the Inseparables a story about Athos from their childhood. I may or may not post something while I'm in Indiana. Everything will depend on a number of variables.

Reviewer Responses:

A reader: Just to be safe, I'm packing spring clothing, rather than summer (because it got up to eighty-one degrees here today). As requested, here's a new chapter … will keep the video in mind, especially if I end up shifting into dirty old lady mode again!

Dg101: Thank you, so glad you're enjoying!

Chapter Nine

Glimpses

San Antonio Memorial Hospital

San Antonio, Texas

7:50 pm

"Hold on, Athos … just hold on."

He was being sped along a lit corridor, the light hurting his eyes and the speed of the gurney making him dizzy. He closed his eyes, because it was either that or the dizziness would make him sick. There were voices … not just the woman telling him, _begging_ him, **ordering** him to hold on … but other voices. Voices that told the woman that she had to let them do their jobs. He knew the woman's voice. It belonged to … who did it belong to? Audelais? No, Audelais had disappeared … but she came back. He found her again, or she found him, and told him why she left in the first place. His mother? No, she was long dead. Anne? But she hated him, hated him for choosing Tommy over her … but he hadn't chosen Tommy over her, had he? No … no, he'd never made that choice. And Anne didn't hate him, not any more. Maybe she never did?

He focused on that, focused on that voice … because it did belong to Anne. He forced his eyes open, just long enough to see long dark hair pulled back into a pony tail and dark green eyes peering worriedly down at him. She smiled then, his Anne, and murmured, "We can't go with you any further, Athos … but we'll be out here, and we'll be waiting for you. Just keep fighting, and just keep holding on. Don't let that bastard win … don't let this be your niece's last sight of you." She shifted ever so slightly, to show Tristan just behind her, enfolded tightly in her mother's arms … in his sister's arms. Tristan's pale face was tear-stained, but she was all right, and little by little, memories began to return to Athos of what had happened. He looked up at Audelais, who looked just as pale and just as worried as Anne But she smiled at him bravely, a smile he remembered from their childhood whenever they heard their parents fighting.

"Let him go, Anne … they need to get him into the OR," a new voice interposed and slowly, painfully, Athos turned his head to the right, to where Aramis stood with Porthos and d'Artagnan, all three of them looking just as worried as his ladies fair did. And wouldn't Aramis tease him unmercifully if he ever heard him say that! But it wasn't Aramis who had spoken, but their captain, who stood at the end of the gurney. He stepped up beside Athos' brothers and rested a gentle hand on the injured Musketeer's cheek, saying softly, "I've never known you to give up on a fight before, Athos. Don't start now, son."

Athos tried to answer his captain, but couldn't speak. Instead, he tried to smile … it was a tiny twitch of his lips, but it was enough. Treville smiled back, his affection and pride shining in his eyes, and then Audelais was telling Anne that it was time. Athos felt his head being drawn back to his ladies, and Anne was staring down at him, her eyes all but boring into his as she hissed, "You fight, Olivier Athos de la Fere. You hear me? You fight! I just got you back, and I am _not_ losing you again. _We_ are not losing you again, so you fight!" He offered Anne the same small twitch of his lips that he'd given Treville, and her face softened. So did her voice as she whispered, "I love you, you idiot."

That demanded an answer and he managed to whisper hoarsely, "Your … idiot." He didn't have the energy for ' _I love you_ ,' and he wasn't sure if she would understand the significance of ' _I know_.' And it appeared that he said the right thing, because Anne's face lit up into a radiant smile. She bent forward to kiss his forehead, whispering against his temple, ' _yes … my idiot_.' And then the gurney was being pulled forward, and Anne was being drawn back into the comfort of Audelais and Tristan's arms. Athos' eyes found his brothers, and then his ladies, and it was thoroughly unsurprising that it was Porthos who understood his silent plea for them to take care of Anne, Audelais and Tristan. He inclined his head with a small smile, and that was the last he saw of his brothers, his captain, his sister, his niece, or his wife for some time.

Inside the OR, he had to close his eyes once more … the lights were bright, too bright, and it was hard enough to keep the bile down as he was moved from the gurney to the operating table. That voice from the desperate chase was back now, whispering for him to breathe, to keep breathing, to breathe through the pain. Slowly, oh so slowly, the nausea began to recede and Athos opened his eyes … and found himself staring back at him. His twin smiled at him gently and while his lips didn't move, Athos heard his voice in his head, ' _rest, little one. Let the healers do their work. I will stay here and watch over you_.' And the voice, he realized as the mask was placed over his face, the voice was speaking in French. But there was more that was being said.

 _No harm will come to you while I watch over you, my child … my namesake. I swear it. On my honor, and by our shared name, Athos, no harm will come to you_ , the man wearing his face told him. No … not his face. This was his ancestor, the first Athos, the famed Musketeer. And he now stood beside the operating table where Athos lay, his eyes filled with love and determination. He should have been … well, he should have been many things. Stunned, overwhelmed, questioning. But as the darkness began to lap over him in waves, as the pain in his shoulder and throughout his body began to grow distant, he only felt …

Relief. Relief and reassurance. Here or with his brothers, he wasn't alone.

14AA41

She stumbled away from her sister-in-law and niece after assuring Josie that she would be all right. Josie hadn't wanted to leave her … she could see it in her eyes … but Tristan hadn't eaten yet, and she was showing signs of getting light-headed. Anne swore that she would be fine, that right now, Tristan needed to be her mother's top priority. Josie nodded, but told her that they would find her after Tristan had eaten. Anne just smiled at her weakly and headed away … any where she didn't have to look at the doors that kept her away from her husband.

Thus, she didn't see Josie look at the recently-arrived Anne Maurice … nor did she see the blonde woman nodding in response. She just stumbled to the ladies room, intending to regain her composure because oh God, she could have lost Athos and today was the first time she'd actually told him that she loved him since their marriage came tumbling down around them, thanks to her lies. That was her intention … but Athos' words repeated in her mind. He thought he hadn't been a good husband to her, because she hadn't trusted him.

It was one of those moments when things shifted, just a little … just enough. And something she thought she'd seen so clearly shifted into far clearer focus. And that was enough to send her spiraling into rage once more … but this time, the rage was directed at herself. Not Athos, not even Richelieu, but herself. For as long as she lived, Anne would never forget hearing Tristan's small, terrified voice as she, Josie, and Athos' Musketeer brothers raced to the scene of the accident … would never forget the blood soaking her husband's shirt.

They'd been at the Garrison, she and Josie, poring over the emails that she wasn't supposed to know that Constance had hacked from Richelieu's private account (because of course she did … after what she'd done to his cell phone, who else would have done it). Since Josie's assistant director Meg was covering for her while Rob was in the hospital (something about Josie being too distracted to do her job properly), and Anne's friend could not just simply wait around for visiting hours to start, she needed to do something, Treville asked her help in looking for clues. It was, he admitted to Anne while Josie was out of the room, a way of taking back control, since so much had been taken from her in the last few days. She'd accused/observed that it was a way of taking care of her.

He'd shrugged, before responding, "I have always respected her, even when I wasn't sure if I could trust her. Even when she was a twenty-two year old girl, fighting to prove herself in Bourbon, she worked harder than anyone else. I had no idea that she was the daughter of Henry's fiercest supporters, although I'm sure he figured it out. Back then, she was just a co-worker … a rookie who had a lot of potential, if her idealism didn't get her killed. But now … now, she's family. I can't do much for her, but this is something I can do. And one thing I learned about her back then, her mind is wired differently than other people's. Somehow along the way, she learned to turn that into an advantage."

Anne arched a brow, asking, "Is that admiration I hear in your voice?" Again, he'd shrugged, a small smile on his face, and Anne felt as though all the oxygen was sucked out of her lungs. She gasped, "It _is_! You _like_ her! For God's sake, why haven't you made a move on her?" For some reason, Rob was dragging his feet when it came to winning back Josie. Dumb-ass. Josie deserved better than him … she wasn't sure if Treville was the kind of man Josie needed, but for damn sure, he was a hundred times better than Rob Maddox.

"Because she's still in love with her ex-husband … because she's the older sister of someone who I love as a son … because much as I do admire her and like her, I cannot be the man she needs," Treville answered. He was silent briefly, and Anne had wondered if he was remembering what it felt like to hold Josie while she was shaking apart. However, she would never ask him such a question, especially not after his expression turned mischievous and he added, "Mind you, I wouldn't mind helping her to make her ex-husband jealous."

That surprised a laugh out of her, and as the soft footfall announced that Josie was returning, Treville asked next, "And why don't you like Rob Maddox? You're not especially fond of most people, in general, but you have a particular dislike for him. It isn't just because he cheated on one of your few friends. And it isn't even that he tried to shift blame to her for his cheating." Technically speaking that wasn't what he'd done, but it was close enough for Anne to let it pass. Treville asked softly when they heard Josie's voice responding to a question from d'Artagnan, "Why do you despise him so?"

"Because once wasn't enough for him … he cheated on her with more than just that pretty piece of fluff, during an attempt at reconciliation about a year and a half ago that was … encouraged by Philip Callaghan. I'm not blaming Philip … he was trying to help," Anne replied. And she knew who was truly to blame. Treville stared at her, his brows furrowed as he mentally put the timeline in place. She saw it the moment he figured it out … his eyes rounded and he actually looked stunned. Anne smiled a bit bitterly, adding, "I don't know if it makes any difference, but Josie and I weren't friends at the time, and I didn't know he was married. But I thought he was incredibly handsome, and my ego was still hurting from Athos failing to meet me when I asked."

"You had already left by the time Athos was able to get away," Treville said quietly and Anne froze. This … was something she hadn't known. She had left … and he came for her? But Treville wasn't done, as he continued, "He couldn't get away sooner, because there was a … because there was an attack on Musketeer Headquarters, and Athos couldn't leave so long as one person was missing. He didn't stand you up … maybe he chose his brothers over you, but he didn't stand you up." Anne felt her knees turn to water, because she'd heard that there was a horrific explosion in Montreal, but … Treville asked, "She knows … doesn't she?"

Anne had snorted softly, retorting, "I always like to think of myself as being inscrutable, as being mysterious. Josie took one look at me after I encountered her ex, and asked straight out, ' _you slept with him, didn't you_?' She wasn't angry … at least, not with me, although he was another story. Angry, disappointed, heart-sick … take your pick. I still think that if it hadn't hurt Tristan, she would have kicked his balls up into his throat. She was hurt … I could tell that much … but she forgave me." She forgave me. Such simple, and yet, such powerful words.

Josie had forgiven her … Athos had forgiven her … she had forgiven Athos. The only thing left to do … was to forgive herself. She was unaware that she'd spoken aloud until a second voice observed softly, wistfully, "That's always the hardest thing of all, isn't it? Forgiving yourself, whether for the things you've done or the things you've failed to do." Anne whipped around … to find the other Anne, Anne Maurice, leaning against one of the stalls. She smiled gently, explaining, "Joselais sent me after you. She was worried about you."

Anne snorted, muttering, "Her little brother is being operated on, her husband is sporting a hole in his chest, her daughter is going into shock, and she's worrying about me. The woman is utterly ridiculous." A small smile tugged at the corners of the other Anne's mouth, and the former head-hunter sighed, "Of course she is. I don't think she knows how to stop worrying about other people. It wouldn't surprise me if she was fretting over whether her husband had enough food in the house while she was in labor with Tristan."

That surprised a laugh out of the other woman, who observed, "Actually, I have no trouble seeing that as well. But she loves you … and she knows you're afraid. Of course you are. Even if it was someone other than Rochefort, the man you love is fighting for his life." There was only a small tremble in her voice when she spoke of the man who was causing them all such trouble. Both women were silent for several moments, then the current CEO of Bourbon asked softly, "Why did you help them save me?" And that surprised Anne.

So much so, she blurted out, "Not out of the goodness of my heart!" The other Anne merely arched her brows, that small smile turning into a smirk. She scowled at her namesake, wanting very much to snap at her to shut up, but since she hadn't said a word … And she hadn't answered the question, either, not really. She exhaled slowly, observing, "I'm not a good person. Except for the time I was married to Athos, I always looked out for myself first, last and always, because there was no one else to do it. But Rochefort … he was trouble. And looking out for number one, hurting people just because they were in my way … I felt hollow."

She wasn't answering the question, but she was answering it in the only way she could. The other woman nodded slowly, and feeling more than a little uncomfortable, Anne quipped, "This doesn't make us friends or anything." She didn't have many female friends … actually, she didn't have many friends, period … just Josie and Adele, Alex and Kat, Nick and Philip. Athos was in a category by himself. She wasn't sure how she would classify Constance. And it didn't seem to matter, because her companion was nodding slowly and thoughtfully.

"We will likely never be friends. In some ways, we are too similar and in other ways, we are too different. So no, we will likely never be friends. But we will always be allies, and perhaps in time, because of the men we love … perhaps in time, we will be sisters?" the other Anne asked quizzically. Sisters? That was something she never considered.

Allies was something she was used to having … people like Nick Boyle and Alex Moreau. But it wasn't until she met Kat Corrigan, who quietly offered her friendship, that she actually had friends. Yes, she was used to having allies … but friends? Sisters? She found that she was intrigued by the idea, and she hesitantly offered a smile to the other Anne. The younger woman returned the smile, saying, "Come. We should join the others … none of us should be alone right now. Besides, Tristan isn't the only one who hasn't eaten yet." This was said with a rueful smile, and Anne bit back a snicker. She fell into step with the other woman. She didn't know that Rochefort had followed them to the hospital … but there was nothing wrong with closing ranks. Just in case.

14AA41

He was gettin' real sick of Rochefort tryin' to take his brothers from him. First, it was Aramis and now it was Athos. The next time he tried to take anyone from Porthos, it would be Rochefort who lost. Whether it was a part of him or his life, Porthos really didn't care. But that rat bastard wouldn't be permitted to hurt anyone else he loved. Not now. Not ever. As it was, Porthos thought he would be having nightmares for the rest of his life about how pale Athos was as he pulled him from Joselais' truck, how Athos listed against his chest as Porthos carried him to the church van, how much blood soaked his shirt.

And he got there at the tail end of things … how much worse must it have been for Tristan? Porthos glanced at the little girl, who was picking at the last bites of her burger, leaning into her mother as she did. The poor kid was exhausted and Joselais observed softly, "Think it would be okay if d'Artagnan or Porthos or Constance ate the last of that, kiddo?" Tristan bobbed her head unsteadily as Aramis returned to the table bearing an ice cream sundae for himself. He'd offered to get one for Tristan, but Joselais pointed out that she would be lucky to finish her dinner without falling asleep in it. Aramis pouted briefly, before cheering up at Constance's droll reminder that they would be able to spoil their niece another time.

Joselais now pushed the remainder of Tristan's meal away and pulled the little girl into her lap. Tristan promptly curled around her mother, burying her face in the crook of her neck. A small, nostalgic smile appeared on Joselais' face and Porthos quirked a brow at her. The smile brightened and Joselais admitted, "Sometimes, I don't know whether to laugh or cry at the similarities between Tristan and Athos. He did that when he was little, too … curled around me the way Tristan is doing now."

And of course, their whelp just had to ask, "Do you have any other stories about him? We heard some his stories about you … he told us about you taking him fishing when he was little … but what about stories about him?" Aramis brightened up once again at this new topic of conversation, no doubt foreseeing some blackmail material to use against Athos at a later date (well, truth be told, so was Porthos. More along the lines of forcing him to take care of himself than a way of teasing him. He would have help in that particular endeavor from Constance, who was smirking at him as if she knew the direction of his thoughts. She probably did).

"As a matter of fact, I _do_ have a few stories about him. But my favorite comes from when he was about four years old. I think because that gave me a preview of the man he'd become," was the somewhat unexpected response. Constance made an encouraging noise in the back of her throat, and Joselais began, "I had just turned ten and Mother was about six months pregnant with Tommy. You've probably realized she wasn't the most maternal of women at the best of times … and for her, pregnancy was never the best of times. Athos and I were often left on our own, as she always wanted Papa to dance attendance on her." Porthos grimaced … somehow, he wasn't particularly surprised by that.

But that smile never wavered as she went on, "I had taken Athos on a walk around the estate. We did that sometimes … just went walking. What we didn't know was that in the 1830's, some of the old pioneers from France tried to build a dug-out. It seems that they'd first traveled out to Saskatchewan, before back-tracking to New Brunswick … took the idea of the dug-out back with them. The area they chose for their dug-out wasn't particular sturdy, or maybe the lay of the land changed … but we were walking on what was once the roof, and it gave way. I managed to push Athos back, but fell in myself."

Porthos winced, imagining what a fall like that must have done to a ten year old girl. Aramis paled, and Joselais offered a tiny shrug, adding, "I think I blacked out … when I woke up, I promptly lost what little I'd eaten … sorry, Aramis … when I moved my leg. That's when I heard Athos crying. I scared him when I pushed him back, and then again when I fell. I called up that I was okay … yes, Constance, I wasn't okay, but I had to calm him down somehow. And do you know what my terrified little four year old brother did?"

"Ran back to the house to get help?" Constance asked pertly. Everyone looked at her, and she shrugged, adding, "It stands to reason. She was in the well .. 'scuse me, in the dug-out, and had a broken leg. Athos was above-ground, and he was the only one who could have run for help. It's the logical conclusion." Porthos glanced up as the two Annes approached. They weren't arm-in-arm or buddy-buddy, but there was a peace between the two women he would have never expected. Then again, the unexpected was becoming somewhat commonplace with Anne de Brueil, the more time he spent around her.

"Logical," Joselais conceded, "but not entirely correct. He actually ran to the stables. And instead of heading back to the house with our groom, Damon, my dear little brother runs back to where I was trapped … and stays with me. When Papa came, he had me on one horse and Athos was riding with Damon, and he asked Athos why he had done it, why he had stayed with me, rather than coming back to the house. Athos' response? ' _But Papa, I had to stay with Audelais! She was scared_!' I was passing in and out of consciousness, so those were probably not his exact words, but that was the intent. He refused to leave me, because he didn't want me to be alone, because he knew I was afraid. My darling four year old brother, who already had no small amount of courage and compassion. There wasn't a blessed thing he could do for me … but he gave me what he could."

"He hasn't changed a bit," Anne de Brueil said hoarsely, and a small smile curved Joselais' mouth. _Oh_. Oh, that little minx! She'd known that her sister-in-law was behind her! Anne shook her head, muttering, "He and I will be having a long talk once he's out of surgery and stable. The idea that he wasn't a good husband … bah! He's an idiot!" That smile decorating Joselais' face grew broader.

"Yes, yes," was her impish response, "but he's _your_ idiot. Our idiot, really. I hadn't thought of that in years. Do you know, from the time they finished setting my ankle … because that's what I broke … but from they finished putting the cast on my ankle, Athos didn't leave my side? Whatever I needed, he either got for me or he went for Papa. He was so proud to be a grown-up, to be taking care of me for once!" Porthos couldn't help but smile, because he could see that picture oh so clearly … a bored, frustrated ten year old stuck in bed, while her pint-sized brother did his best to look after her. He could also see that pint-sized version of Athos. Audelais added, almost wistfully, "I'll need to take care of him like that while he recovers."

"No, Josie … this time, that's _my_ job. You've been taking care of Athos all along … I need to start doing the same. And while we're waiting for him to come out of surgery, we need to talk about what all this means. Rochefort is back. He wants to take Athos out, and he's not above using Tristan or Josie to do it. We need to come up with a plan to take his ass out, once and for all," Anne replied. She paused, bit her lip, and then continued, "Because he _will_ come after us again, and we might not be so lucky again."

"Especially since he thought he was attacking Tristan and me initially," Joselais observed, inclining her head. Porthos noticed d'Artagnan frowning, as if wondering how she came to that conclusion. Joselais was more than willing to further his education, explaining, "Athos was driving my car, d'Art … when he picked Tris up at soccer practice, he never got out of the car, so Rochefort probably didn't know until he reached the ambush site that Athos would be there, rather than me. He intended to take Tristan and me out … he got Athos instead."

Porthos was thinking the exact same thing, but couldn't bring himself to say the words aloud in mixed company. But now the djinn was out of the bottle … and they had to deal with that particular truth. Anne said softly, "Then we close ranks. Rochefort may have won this round, but we made him pay for it. Tristan made him pay for it. He'll be licking his wounds and planning his next move. So should we."

TBC


	11. Chapter 10: Endings and Beginnings

Author's Notes: And once again, sitting in a plane (or, in this case, a car) with nothing to do but think for six hours gives a huge boost to my muses. Of course, once we got to our hotel for the night in Ohio, they retreated, giggling, to the borders of my mind. At least until after dinner on Thursday (Friday night, I did most of the work _before_ dinner with my brother and his lady). It didn't help that most of what was being said will end up in the fourth story of the series, which has yet to be titled (there will be at least a third story, the aforementioned _What I Can Be_ , more than likely a fourth, and a few one-shots in the _All for One, One Forever_ series). In any event, in this chapter, Rob Maddox finally bows to the inevitable; Porthos and Captain Treville get the news; while Athos and Anne (finally) have that long-overdue conversation.

Reviewer Responses:

A reader: Well, so far, it's been a mixture … on Friday, it was so warm, I needed to turn on the air conditioner in my room. Yesterday, it was very, very cold. It's supposed to be warmer today (fingers, toes, all other appropriate body parts). We met my nephew and his family for dinner, then spent nearly two hours talking in my brother's hotel room while we passed around my great-nephew once he woke up. It was so cute, when we stopped for lunch on Friday at Cracker Barrel, we found these adorable suspenders and bow tie for my great-nephew at Cracker Barrel. Now, Chris (my nephew) has a thing for bow-ties, which played into that, but being the fandom-inclined auntie that I am, I'm thinking I can put together a baby cosplay for Glenn as either Captain Jack Harkness or the Eleventh Doctor, as my nephew is into _Doctor Who_ as well. And yes, I would be happy to have Athos as my idiot as well!

Chapter Ten

Endings and Beginnings

"This was never going to end well for us … was it."

It was a statement, rather than a question, and Robert Maddox stared at his wife … ex-wife, he corrected himself. He needed to start accepting that. The visit from her ghostly ancestor earlier drove that point home. And he was grateful to Constance for relaying the message … as well as Josie entrusting the care of her brother to someone else. Things sounded so easy when it was Josie in the hospital bed … he was going to sweep in and take care of her and be the husband and father he should have been all along. He was going to court her and win her back. Except … he didn't. He wouldn't. He never would be the husband he should have been, because at every turn, he put himself first. Offer to take Josie and Tristan to Mass? Oops, got an unexpected meeting with a witness, maybe another time and he was sure that Aramis wouldn't mind accompanying them. Take Josie to the theater? He had to re-schedule four times before the night he was shot. No wonder she wasn't entirely surprised when he told her that he couldn't do this any more. He fit her in around his schedule … never made the commitment he should have.

Hurt yes, as hard as she had tried to hide it … but surprised? No. And in a way, that hurt more than anything she could have said. But it wasn't inevitable. He had _chosen_ to put his career before his wife and his child … had chosen to put his curiosity before his vows. There was nothing inevitable about this. And as usual, his Josie was blaming herself … no. No, he had to let go. He was still clinging to her, and that would end up pulling her down. Josie murmured, more to herself than to him, "Somewhere along the way, we forgot how to be friends … that's just as much on me as it is on you."

Ugh … he should have known that she would do this! Despite his reassurances, Josie still didn't accept that she bore very little fault in the destruction of their marriage. He and his own self-destructive tendencies had far more to do with it than anything she had or hadn't done. He accepted that Josie would likely always think that way, but it didn't stop him from wanting to shake her until her teeth rattled. Not that he would do such a thing … Anne de Brueil would likely kill him if he even looked at Josie cross-eyed.

Instead, he said softly, "I have to let you go, Josie … I will always love you, and always regret that my actions destroyed the best thing in my life, aside from our daughter, but I'm preventing you from finding someone who _can_ put you first." Or, if not first, then could at least be selfless. That was the first thing he'd realized after his conversation with the ghost of the first Athos, the first Musketeer who bore that name. Even after their divorce, Josie rarely dated, choosing to focus on raising Tristan. Rob couldn't fool himself into thinking that she was pining away for him … his ego was big enough, but it wasn't that big … no, she'd been burned and wasn't especially interested in getting burned again. Besides, she was trying to keep things together for her seven year old daughter, who didn't understand why Daddy didn't live with them any more and didn't seem to love them any more.

"And … what about you? What comes next for you?" Josie asked softly, hazel eyes flickering to him. Rob almost forgot to breathe, because dammit, she wasn't supposed to be worried about him! Her job was to worry about herself, about Tristan, and about that annoying little brother of hers, the one who looked at Rob with such disdain. Josie allowed a sad half-smile to quirk the corners of her lips as she told him, "You just said that you would always love me, Rob. Did it never occur to you that I would always love you?"

Not … particularly. Josie just smiled and shook her head, murmuring something under her breath that he couldn't quite make out. After a moment, she went on, "Regardless, you'll remain under Musketeer protection until Rochefort is caught, and is either back in prison or dead. Right now, my preference would be the latter, but I'll accept any resolution where he's no longer a threat to my family." Hear hear. And because she was Josie, she went on, "You never answered my question … what comes next for you?"

"I don't know," Rob admitted, "I haven't thought that far in advance. But … maybe a leave of absence from the office wouldn't go amiss. I realized while I was lying here that I was … that I don't love my job any more." And that made his string of broken promises all the more damning. Josie merely nodded and not for the first time, he wished she would rage at him, tell him to burn in hell. But she wouldn't do that. Too much of her childhood was bound up in memories of her parents arguing like that … and of being a very young girl with the very big responsibility of taking care of her two younger brothers. She rose to her feet then and moved to his bed, bending forward to lightly kiss his forehead.

Rob closed his eyes as her lips lightly brushed his skin and she whispered, her breath soft against his temple, "Good-bye, Robby … take care of yourself." She straightened up, nodding to Eddie who had been present through the entire thing, and left the room. Rob sank back against the pillows, not even attempting to blink back the tears that trickled down his face. It was necessary, he knew. But letting go of that woman was quite possibly the hardest thing he'd ever done … maybe even the hardest thing he'd ever have to do.

He hoped so. As it was, he'd need to take leave of absence and leave San Antonio for a while. Not so much because of what the Musketeers might do to him, as because he would see her everywhere he went. No, he needed to leave San Antonio once Rochefort was no longer a threat. Like Josie, he didn't care whether the man was dead or behind bars … just as long as his little girl never again had to confront the bastard again.

"Dude, you're a moron," the young clerk said, interrupting Rob's mental planning. Rob looked at the young man with a small smile as Eddie rose to his feet and stalked out of the room, shaking his head. Yeah, he was a moron. All the more reason not to drag down the woman he loved along with him. He was a moron who couldn't protect himself from the dipshit he'd put away years ago, much less his wife and child. Josie and Tristan would be better off with him. None of that made what he'd just done any easier to bear, or hurt any less. Then again, his mother always told him that sometimes, doing the right thing did hurt. She was right again … she usually was.

A4114A

Athos had emerged from surgery about two hours earlier and was now resting in a private room, where his Anne maintained her vigil. As soon as he was out of surgery, Constance had taken Joselais to one side, telling her that Rob needed to talk to her (yeah, that didn't bode well, to Porthos' mind). Aramis had taken Tristan back to the house so the poor kid could change clothes. Normally, Porthos would have done it, but he'd been needed here at the time. He'd hugged the girl, kissing the top of her head, and told her that he would look after her parents and uncle for her. That made her smile, even a small smile, and that was worth it. Aramis put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the exit where Anne Maurice awaited them, and together, they left the hospital.

During the last twenty minutes, Porthos and his captain put together a timeline and the best options for protecting their fallen family members. And if Treville thought he hadn't noticed the glances toward Joselais as she headed into her ex-husband's hospital room, he was out of his mind. Both Porthos and Aramis noticed the way their captain sometimes looked at their new sister, and while they agreed that it could make things awkward, they would far rather see Joselais with Treville than reconcile with her ex. However, they would stay out of it … for now. Porthos, though, promise that he would knock Maddox's teeth down his throat if he hurt Joselais again. Aramis pointed out that Athos got first dibs in that particular scenario. And Porthos wouldn't begrudge their lieutenant that … but he got the leftovers!

He and the captain were heading back to check on Athos when Joselais emerged from her ex's hospital room, looking almost … numb. She almost walked right into Treville, blinking as if he'd appeared there by magic, and murmured an apology. She would have kept walking, but Porthos put his hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention, and asked, "You all right, Joselais?" If she was all right, he'd eat his muddiest set of boots … on the other hand, she was unnervingly like Athos when it came to acknowledging that she was hurting.

So, he really wasn't surprised when she smiled an empty smile and said that she was fine. He exchanged a glance with Treville, who offered a minute shake of his head. Yeah, that was Porthos' thought as well. He grasped both shoulders and answered, "Naw, you're miles away from bein' fine. Now, you can tell me … tell us … what's wrong, or I can toss you over my shoulder and carry you out of the hospital until we get far away for you to scream and rant to your heart's content." He very carefully bit down on his tongue to keep from observing that Treville might like the second option, as it would give him a lovely view of her rear … but he was fairly sure that not only would Treville not appreciate the comment, but neither would Joselais. She offered him a mildly offended look (good … that was better than numb).

"Fine. If you really must know … it's over. Between Rob and me. He … he came to the conclusion that his attempts at courting me aren't going anywhere … mainly because he really hasn't been putting an effort into it. But … was I? Was I meeting him halfway enough? Should I have tried to play harder to get? I've never understood the way these games are played, that was why things with Rob felt so right, especially in the beginning, once I accepted that he really wanted to go out with me. Did I do it wrong?" she finally asked. Not surprisingly, once she got started, she couldn't stop, the words all but flooding out of her.

And if Porthos had wanted to knock Rob Maddox's teeth down his throat a few minutes earlier, he wanted to wring the idiot's neck now. Bloody hell, what game was he playing now? Was he playing mind games with the woman he claimed to love? Porthos was distracted when Joselais shook her head and asked in a small voice, "What do I tell Tristan? She was so excited that we were trying to get back together … what if she blames me for not getting it right this time? She was so angry with me last time we tried to reconcile, when he slept with … someone else."

Porthos hadn't known about a third infidelity, but he wasn't all that surprised. He was, however, surprised when Treville spoke up, telling her, "She won't. Not this time. She's almost thirteen years old and starting to realize a few things. And even if she does, either her Milady Anne or Constance will explain that it takes two to work things out. You did the best you could, Audelais. Was there more you could have done? Perhaps. But I do know that every time you said you'd be somewhere, you were … and everything you said you'd do, was done. That's not something Maddox can say."

Joselais seemed to deflate with his words, murmuring, "I just don't understand why I'm not surprised, why I'm not even really upset or angry. Just tired … and disappointed. I just don't know if I'm disappointed in Rob or in myself for trusting him. Or not trusting him. God, I don't even know what I'm saying right now." Porthos was of the opinion that it didn't matter. He glanced at Treville who gave him a ' _what? You're doing just fine_ ' look. Porthos rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around Joselais in a fierce hug. The sister he'd been granted by virtue of his friendship with Athos froze for a moment, and then melted into his embrace. Porthos pulled her closer, resting his chin atop her head.

And Joselais, she held on for dear life. Nothing more was said. It was one time when words really did get in the way, especially since Porthos' instincts were telling him that right now, his new sister had no idea how she was supposed to be feeling. Should she be hurt, should she be angry … or worse yet, should she be relieved? Marriage was hard work, or so Porthos had been told, but not as hard as what he'd been seeing during the last few weeks. Maybe it was no one's fault. Maybe shitty things just happened sometimes, and people realized that as much as they loved each other, the trust wasn't returning. Words got in the way. Hugs, though … those were something else entirely.

He whispered into her hair, "You hold on as long as you need to, Joselais. Ain't lettin' go anytime soon." Her only answer was to tighten her arms around his waist, small body trembling. Porthos met the captain's eyes over her head … ball was in his court now. But so far as he was concerned, Jean Treville would be a damn fool if he let this opportunity go to waste … and one thing he never thought Treville was, was a fool.

14AA41

She'd always loved to watch him sleeping. That was, perhaps, the first indication to her of just how hard she'd fallen for him. None of the other men she'd taken as her lovers in the past … watching them sleep was never something of interest to her. But Athos … Anne had heard Josie's story about Athos wanting to stay at her side after she'd fallen into that dug-out when they were children, and when Athos slept, she could see that little boy once again. It made her eyes smart and her throat ache. He was beautiful whether asleep or awake, quiet or animated. Even when he was angry, he was beautiful.

And now, as he rose from the depths of the anesthesia, his dark eyelashes fluttering as he struggled to return to consciousness, Anne caught her breath. While they were married, this was always her favorite moment … when his eyes slid open and the first thing he saw was her, and a small smile lit his face. _Do you enjoy watching me sleep_ , he asked every time, his smile brightening as she answered in the affirmative, adding that was why she never woke him with kisses. This was always far more gratifying … the moment he realized she was real, and not a dream. She didn't dare hope that this time he'd react the same way. She wasn't even sure if he would remember how he was hurt, much less what was said between them before he went into surgery. One thing she did know … it was time, and long past time, for things to be resolved between them. She wanted Athos back, and she knew he still loved her, but they needed a few more things resolved before they could be husband and wife again.

A sliver of blue appeared and Athos gave a low moan when he shifted, as if forgetting the wound to his shoulder. And then her idiot moved a little more … and his eyes snapped open at the agony which must have resulted. Anne swore under her breath and she moved forward to keep him from doing something even dumber. She put her hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her, and hissed, "Olivier Athos Michael de la Fere!" The use of his full name always got his attention, but she threw his confirmation name in there as insurance. His eyes focused on her and she let the sternness dissipate, offering him a gentle smile.

"Anne?" he asked hoarsely as she lightly caressed his jaw. His eyes drifted shut for a moment as he breathed through the pain, before whispering, "Tristan … is she all right? He didn't have a chance to hurt her, did he?" Anne bit back a smile, not at all surprised that his first thought upon waking was for his young niece. Porthos and Aramis told her that this would happen … his mind would latch onto the circumstances of his injury, and if he was hurt whilst protecting someone else, his first thought would be to make sure they were all right.

"Tristan is fine … the last time I saw her, she was with Aramis and Ana, going to get some clean clothes. Tristan is fine, everyone is fine except you," Anne replied, very carefully not asking how he was feeling. The lines of pain around his mouth and shadowed eyes told her far more than words ever would have. She brushed back the lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes, drawing a tired smile from her husband. Anne whispered, "You scared the hell out of me, do you know that?" He opened his mouth, but Anne waved him to silence, adding, "No, don't apologize to me … I wouldn't ask you not to protect your niece, but dammit, Athos, you frightened me! I just got you back … if you think losing you again, permanently, wouldn't …"

She stopped, because she couldn't bring herself to say any more. She'd spent the last several years being the cool, deadly Milady. And even as Milady hated Athos, she'd also loved him. Even as Milady hated Athos, she'd realized in the recesses of her heart that a world without him would be darker and uglier. But to Anne, a world without Athos was unthinkable. Soft skin and soft hair brushed her fingers, and Anne looked at the man in the bed. He'd leaned into her touch, comforting her in the only way he had available to him at the moment. She closed her eyes and choked out, "I became Milady after I lost you, _because_ I lost you. I would become someone far worse if someone took you away from me, from us."

"Then I shall do my utmost to ensure that won't happen," he said, slipping into the slightly archaic form of talking he retreated to when his emotions became difficult to manage. There was a slight sheen to his eyes that Anne suspected had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with what she was feeling as well. He took a deep breath, wincing a bit at the pain resulting from that simple action, but said, "I know we need to talk, Anne. I just don't know where to start or what to say. I know I hurt you when I turned away …"

"We hurt each other, Athos. Yes, you hurt me when you turned away after Thomas revealed the truth, but I hurt you by keeping that same truth from you. You couldn't trust in my love for you … how could you, when we meet by my design? I infiltrated your life with the express intent of proving that you killed your parents. Not to investigate their deaths, but to prove that you were the guilty party. I came here with an agenda. And then I fell in love with you. But even before that happened, I realized that you hadn't killed your parents. You are capable of killing, without question … but not like that. Never like that," Anne answered quietly.

"There's something else," Athos said softly. Something … else? Oh, she had a bad feeling about this. Athos went on, "The night before I came to you that last time … do you remember? I tried to … tried to apologize for shutting you out?" Anne remembered that too well … she'd retreated into the safety of her own hurt and pride, and threw his own words back in his face and destroyed any hope of reconciliation with her husband at that time. She nodded slowly and Athos went on, "The night before, I came to your sanctuary, because even then I was fearing that I'd gone too far. Before I could knock at the door, I could hear voices inside."

Oh God. Oh God, no. Anne was afraid she would be sick, because she knew exactly what he would have heard that particular night. Athos went on, "That was why I came to you again the following morning, because I had realized how badly I had failed you as a husband." Anne's fear that she would be sick changed to a desire to scream. Because of _course_ her husband would hear her half of that conversation and find a way to blame himself. And he wasn't finished yet, saying, "I handled everything so badly, Anne, and …"

"Shut up. Just … shut … up!" Anne hissed and Athos fell silent, his eyes going wide. She took several deep breaths, because as much as she loved this man, he was beyond infuriating at times. Yes, she was fully aware that was part of why she loved him so much … without that infuriating streak of his, he would have been damn near perfect, and there was no way she could have loved someone who was perfect. When she had regained some of her composure, she leaned forward and imparted, "Now, you listen to me. I won't deny that you hurt me … my God, Athos, we hurt each other so badly. So badly. But I made my own damn choices, and it's long past time I owned up to them. I chose not to tell you the truth, and I chose to throw your attempts at reconciliation back in your face. That's in the past. What I want to know is, what comes next. Do we keep hurting each other, do we keep using the past as a weapon … or do we try to love each other? Do we learn to trust each other?"

"I want to … I do. I want to love you, perhaps not the way I did when we first met. I can't be the Athos you first met, any more than you can be the Anne I met that morning in the grocery store. Can we love each other as we are _now_?" Athos answered softly. It occurred to Anne that this probably wasn't the best time for such a conversation … he was just out of surgery, and even now he was blinking at her owlishly. But her instincts told her that they needed to purge this wound before it festered more.

"I'd like that very much. And … to earn your trust, I need to admit a truth to you," Anne replied. There were many truths she'd never granted to him. But for some reason, this seemed like the most important one. His eyes remained on her, and she told him, "I don't remember the name I was born with. Anne de Brueil was a name I chose when I was very, very young … maybe eight years old. 'Anne' was the name of a woman who was kind to me, and 'de Brueil' was the name of a store where I used to take shelter. It wasn't the name of the owner, but a family name for them. I've used so many names in my life … Charlotte Backson, Sabine du Berry. But the only place that ever truly felt like home to me was at your side."

Athos opened his mouth to speak several times, the owlish blinking becoming more and more prevalent as the moments ticked by. At last, he said softly, "The morning after that final confrontation between you and Tommy … there was a reason I didn't come to see you off. There was a reason I couldn't look at you. That night … that night, I had a dream … a nightmare. It was so realistic, Anne … it was so real, I could smell your perfume … and the blood." Anne's own blood ran cold, as she realized what Athos was about to tell her. She wanted to silence him with her finger or her lips, wanted to tell him that it wasn't necessary, that Constance had told her about this. But it wasn't about her knowledge right now … it was about Athos taking a step to trust her. He took a deep breath and flinched, but forced out, "I had a dream, a nightmare … that you killed Tommy. That you took one of the knives I brought home from my tours of duty … and _drove it into his chest_."

Somehow, it was worse, hearing it from Athos than it was hearing it from Constance. There was none of the anguish Anne was now hearing from her husband when Constance told her. There was none of the grief or the guilty or the despair, and Anne understood in that moment what she never had before. What she couldn't have understood at the time because she didn't grow up with siblings. If she had killed Thomas, regardless of the reason, it would have destroyed Athos. His love for them both would have destroyed him.

She swallowed hard and shifted her weight from the chair to the bed, so that she sat at his side and murmured, "Before I met Josie and Kat, I wouldn't have understood that. I didn't grow up with either of them, but I have loved them as my own sisters. I forgive you, Athos. And I know you've forgiven me. So maybe, you can help me with the final act of forgiveness … forgiving myself." His hand moved to cover hers, then shifted up to her wrist. It was a small action, but she understood immediately what it meant. With a small laugh, she lay down beside him, careful to avoid his injuries.

His face turned into her hair and he breathed against her skin, "I love you." Anne buried her face against his neck, her tears soaking his hair. It wasn't an end, because they still had so much to work through … but it _was_ a beginning.

TBC

Additional Author's Notes: I did a bit of checking for Athos' confirmation name, eventually settling on Michael, since he's the patron saint of police officers and soldiers. He's also not only my favorite saint, but my favorite among the archangels (well, I do have a particular fondness for St. Catherine of Alexandria … it's only right, since I chose 'Catherine' to be my own confirmation name). I thought briefly about St. Martial, since that's the French saint for June 30th, but I just couldn't see Athos picking that. I do see him as having an affinity for Michael, on the other hand.


	12. Chapter 11: Inappropriate Feelings

Author's Notes: I honestly wasn't sure how people would react to a burgeoning relationship between Treville and Joselais, but early signs indicate that there is little to no opposition and some are even rooting for it. When I first started realizing that things weren't gelling for Rob and Joselais the way I wanted them to and Treville somewhat hesitantly admitted that he was very much attracted to his lieutenant's sister, the initial thought was to have Athos find his captain and sister in a compromising situation. That morphed into an 'awkward but ultimately innocent situation' and Tommy discovering them instead. I think that's where I'll go with this, since Athos has entirely too much respect for both Treville and Joselais to deck Treville (still pondering if he would provide a shovel talk). Tommy, on the other hand, would defend his sister's honor, without caring about the circumstances (in other words, make an uncomfortable situation into a genuinely bad one ... remember how he shot his mouth off about his sister's past?). So, in this chapter: Treville ponders the newest change; Athos and Anne learn about the final break between Rob and Joselais; and discussions about dealing with Rochefort take place.

Reviewer Responses:

A reader: So glad you're enjoying it! Be safe when you head to New York, and enjoy your time with those little ones!

Dg101: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

Chapter Eleven

Inappropriate Feelings

He wasn't entirely sure at what point he stopped seeing Audelais Josephine de la Fere Maddox as just his lieutenant's sister, much less when he started noticing the way her smile for her brother and his friends was brighter than her smile for her on-again, off-again husband … he just knew that his ever-more inappropriate feelings for her made it damn uncomfortable to be around her. Although she was divorced, she was trying to see if she could mend her relationship with her ex-husband … and, she _was_ his lieutenant's sister. But she was also a lovely, kind woman who daily demonstrated where Athos learned his own kindness and concern for others. Jean Treville was well aware that she regarded herself as the least among the de la Fere siblings, in terms of looks. He also knew that was pure foolishness. She was every bit as beautiful as Anne Maurice, Constance Lupiac, or Anne de Brueil.

That made his attempt to comfort her a few days earlier, after she finally succumbed to her shock, all the more uncomfortable. He pushed his feelings to the very back of his mind, because right then, it wasn't important, how he felt … what was important was _her_. In the moment, at that time, she needed to feel safe … she needed to feel as she was on solid ground. And he was a soldier before he'd been a Musketeer … he knew about pushing his own feelings aside to do what had to be done. If he'd taken pleasure in holding a beautiful woman close, he would be the only one who would ever know.

Or so he thought … but both Porthos and Aramis were far too perceptive, and he had the strong suspicion that if those two put the pieces together successfully, so had Audelais' younger brother. But as of yet, his lieutenant had not confronted him about it … or even mentioned it to him. Treville knew that wouldn't keep, especially not now.

It also made him wonder if he thought Rob Maddox was doing the right thing by letting Audelais go because he was unwilling to be the kind of man such a wonderful woman deserved, or if he had more selfish reasons? He ultimately dismissed the question, because it didn't matter. Just because Maddox set Audelais free didn't mean that Treville had a chance with her, and he wasn't even sure if he should proceed. After a brief run-through in his mind, he decided to table the question of his feelings for Audelais (and what he should do about them) until after Rochefort was caught and dealt with. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her, or to her daughter, because he was too distracted to do what had to be done.

That was why he decided he was the one who needed to tell Athos about the final break between his sister and former brother-in-law. Porthos was comforting the lady in question, and doing a fine job of it. Aramis was looking after Tristan, under the guise of retrieving clean clothing for her (probably inspecting the ladies' home while Anne Maurice was assisting the pre-teen). And while he knew Athos and his once-and-future wife were starting to work things out in their incredibly complicated relationship, he also knew that his lieutenant needed to know about this latest change in his sister's life. Later, he would discuss the protection detail with his three uninjured Musketeers. Rochefort was still a danger to Maddox, and regardless of how they felt about him, they wouldn't abandon the district attorney.

He slipped into Athos' hospital room, smiling to himself as his eyes adjusted to the darkness to find Athos and Anne curled up together on the bed. Not surprisingly, Anne asked softly, "What is it, Captain? I know you aren't just here to check on Athos, or to see if I've killed him." Treville rolled his eyes in exasperation, but didn't take the bait. Anne went on, carefully shifting, "Okay, you just ignored a perfectly good lead-in … what's happened?" Treville moved until he could look at them both, and saw Athos' eyes at half-mast. He knew, however, that his lieutenant was paying careful attention to everything that was being said.

"There has been a … development … involving your sister," Treville said, choosing his words carefully. He knew to some, what he was about to say was frivolous, but it was his experience that everything was important … and he didn't want Athos to be blindsided. Audelais would, no doubt, try to keep it from her younger brother, thinking that she was protecting him from something that wasn't really important. In the bed, Athos stiffened, and Treville went on, "Robert Maddox has abandoned his attempts at reconciliation." He didn't say, because it would have been an enormous insult to the young man, that he expected Athos to do his job as a Musketeer.

"You mean he's given up on his lame-ass attempts at convincing Josie that they can work things out if she yields to him often enough?" Anne asked caustically, and while Treville would have normally cautioned her, he held his tongue this time. Yes, she was angry with Maddox, but more than that, she was worried about her closest friend. She was also wrong about one thing … Treville accepted that Maddox did love his ex-wife. Just not enough to make her a priority in his life. A moment later, he was wishing he had gone ahead and said something to her, as she sat up beside Athos, batted her lashes at him, and said in a supremely annoying falsetto voice, "Well, that leaves the door open for you, big boy … when do you plan to make your move?"

Treville ignored Athos face-palming, because he was struggling not to face-palm for his own part. Bloody hell … was there _anyone_ in their organization who _hadn't_ realized he was in serious danger of falling in love with Audelais de la Fere Maddox? Evidently not (aside from possibly d'Artagnan and Constance … and he would have been quite surprised if Constance didn't know. That girl knew _everything_ ), as Athos merely raised his eyebrows and said calmly, "While I wouldn't have asked in quite that manner, sir, Anne does raise a good point … but for your sake, and my sister's, I would suggest caution. Both of you deserve far more than to be a rebound for her. Just … be careful. I can't help with the guard rotation for Maddox, but I'm sure there's something I can do. Just … understand that I'll need to have a talk with him, later … and only talking will be done. I haven't the energy for anything else."

And just like that, the question of Jean Treville's inappropriate (to his mind) feelings for his lieutenant's sister was addressed. At least, so far as Athos was concerned … there was another de la Fere brother, after all, and he would have a few things to say as well. But that could wait. Right now, the protection detail for Robert Maddox, his ex-wife and their daughter was the most important issue before them.

14AA41

If Athos knew his captain at all (and he was quite sure he did), the older man was even now questioning if there was anyone in their odd little family who _hadn't_ noticed the way he looked at Aude … and the answer to that was yes, there was. While Constance had picked up on it immediately, d'Artagnan was somewhat oblivious. Then again, he was a newly-married young man, and his focus was on his new wife and their unborn child. There were a few of the newer Musketeers, who had just arrived from Montreal. But among the Inseparables, only d'Artagnan remained unaware. However, that being said, Athos was certain his younger brother wouldn't be surprised once it was pointed out to him.

Was he concerned about how Tommy would react once he figured it out? Somewhat … Tommy was a very protective younger brother. Too much so, and it had taken their sister some time to truly forgive Tommy for revealing the truth of her time with their father's friends before she struck out on her own. She hadn't ever wanted any of them to know about that time in her life … not Athos, not Tommy, and certainly not Mariana Delmedigo. Unfortunately, Tommy had taken that out of her hands. It was something that Audelais would have eventually needed to tell them, but it should have been on her terms … no one else's.

Reluctantly, Athos mentally shelved that and asked his captain, "We currently have four people for the guard detail … do you plan to add any of the newcomers?" Even as he was speaking, he was mentally planning the roster. There wasn't much else he could do to protect his sister and niece at the moment. He already knew that Anne would give her life to protect Audelais and Tristan … he still remembered how Anne reacted to Audelais being shot months earlier. And over the last ten weeks, there had been a steady influx of Musketeer recruits. A significant number were former military, like Athos himself, but there were some young kids looking for a purpose. It was this latter group who would need the most time to prove themselves.

"Only the more seasoned ones … Donato, Newsome, Ramirez, and O'Malley, I think," Treville answered. Ah. The quartet who Treville was calling his 'American Inseparables.' Three of the four served together in the US Army, first meeting at Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri in 1994 … Dante Newsome, Hector Ramirez, and Christopher O'Malley. Adrian Donato, like d'Artagnan, was several years younger than the other three, but quickly earned the respect and trust of the other men. It actually amused Athos … when the American and Canadian Inseparables worked together, the opposites tended to flock together. He found he worked best with Dante Newsome, who was closer to Porthos in terms of style and substance, rather than Hector Ramirez, who was more like Athos himself.

"That's probably a good idea. Maybe keep Ramirez and Newsome as part of the protective detail for Maddox … Newsome tends to flirt with Josie a lot, and I know she's not comfortable with that," Anne observed, shifting her body until she could fold her legs comfortably without jarring Athos. Treville inclined his head with a small smile. Of course he'd noticed that. Anne went on, "What about the second stringers? I don't think anyone would want to take on Patu or Tanaka. Patu is built like a sumo wrestler, and Tanaka actually was one."

"Tanaka just returned from a training exercise, but he's going on the roster once he's rested. Patu has already volunteered for guard duty, and as soon as he arrives, he'll be guarding Maddox's room. Those two will be on revolving hospital duty, along with Nichols and Anderson," Treville observed. Nichols and Anderson were a pair of Musketeer recruits who went to college on a football scholarship, and done well as student athletes, but weren't good enough for the NFL or CFL, and didn't meet the physical fitness requirements for the police. They were smart kids, and already showed a lot of potential. This was a good test to see if they would be a good fit for the Musketeers. Athos hoped so.

"So, that's four for Maddox, and six for the general protective detail. I can contact Philip, see if he knows of any … enforcers … who would be willing to help," Anne suggested. Athos cringed inwardly, even though Treville appeared to be considering the idea. The enforcers Anne was referring to was … he couldn't call them a gang, because they really weren't. The best way he could think to describe them was a high school version of a neighborhood watch. They worked closely with Philip Callaghan and Gennesaret to protect the people of the neighborhood.

"I'll keep that in mind, but first, we'll see how the Musketeers and recruits do," Treville finally said, adding, "if it becomes necessary, you'll be the liaison to Father Callaghan." Anne inclined her head with a small, smug smile, and Athos rolled his eyes. Treville smiled a bit at their antics, before growing serious once more and continuing, "Now, we have a basic roster in place … I'll have the American Inseparables, Tanaka, Patu, and the recruits see you about their schedule. The next thing we need to figure out is a plan to deal with Rochefort once and for all."

"We know what Rochefort wants … he wants Anne Maurice, and he wants Maddox dead. We just have to figure out a trap that gives him what he wants, or appears to," Anne observed. Treville nodded, lips pursed thoughtfully. Athos could see several ways this could play out, but he was wary of using people. Especially people he was sworn to protect. Anne went on, "Let me talk to Anne Maurice … see what her thoughts are. And I'll make sure to do it when Aramis isn't around." Yes, his brother would have a few choice things to say about using their CEO like this, and Athos wasn't comfortable with it, either.

"If need be, I'll talk to Aramis myself. He still doesn't trust you, and I'm willing to take the hit, especially after what I allowed to happen to Aramis, Marsac, and the others," Treville observed. Athos immediately began to protest, because there were others who bore responsibility in that particular situation, but a stabbing pain in his shoulder when he moved the wrong way stole his breath. He fought his way through the pain grimly, cognizant of a small hand resting against his cheek (Anne) and a larger hand on his chest (Treville), and two voices raised in concern. Once the pain returned to a manageable level, he opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) to find those two dear faces over his own, looking at him anxiously. Treville nodded, saying, "All right, then. Anne, you'll remain with Athos for the moment … once the others come in to create the schedule, you'll act as Athos' assistant and then give the schedule to Constance. She can put it on a spreadsheet. And please don't argue with me … I know quite well that you're no one's secretary, but Athos won't be able to write properly for a few days."

Anne's mouth snapped shut, because she was on the verge of saying just that. Treville smirked, observing, "If I'd known it was that easy to quiet you, I would have done that a long time ago. And as for you, young man … get some rest. I refuse to be the one to tell your sister that your recovery will be lengthened because you're fretting over her." Athos glared at his captain, but knew that he was right … he also knew that his sister was entirely capable of coming to his room and refusing to leave until he did rest.

He had the sudden image of his sister and Treville as the den mother and the Papa Bear of the Musketeers, and realized that not only did he not mind the idea … he actually _wanted_ it to happen. Anne kissed his forehead and murmured, "I need to call Constance, let her know about the extra work that's coming her way. Captain." Treville nodded as Anne eased herself from the bed. She stopped at the door to look at Athos, and smiled. It was the same smile she'd given him on their wedding day, the same smile that would likely always stop his heart. She murmured, "I have more truths to tell you."

It could have been a warning … it likely was … but it was also a promise. Funny, how often those two went together, especially when it came to his once-and-future wife. He smiled at her, answering just as softly, "And I have more to tell you." Chief among those was Aimee … how would Anne react when she learned about his encounters with the other woman? He was worried, yes … but he loved Anne. He had to put faith in her, just as she was taking the enormous step of putting faith in him. And instead of looking concerned, Anne looked … intrigued … by his words. Her smile brightened, and then she left the room. Athos turned his attention to Treville, who was looking at him thoughtfully. Athos returned his captain's gaze, allowing a tiny smile to hover about his lips … something that he knew would get the other man to wondering.

He was right. Treville's eyes narrowed and he asked, "All right … what are you up to now? And don't say, ' _six feet_.' That's as tiresome as ' _no, because that would be illegal_.' What kind of nefarious plots are you hatching for your sister and me, because you certainly wouldn't be wearing that expression if you planned to intervene in the love lives of Aramis or Porthos." Athos affected his best innocent, ' _who, me_?' look, much to Treville's exasperation, and the older man continued, "Keep your secrets, then, boy … I'll figure it out sooner or later."

Athos abandoned his theatrics at that, telling his captain, "I won't intervene in your relationship with my sister, Captain. I won't even warn you of the consequences if you hurt her. I'll just tell you this … I can't think of anyone I would trust more to protect and take care of Audelais and Tristan than you. And I can't think of anyone I would be prouder to have as a brother-in-law than you. I can't make Audelais love you … but I _will_ support you in any way I can. Just … please. Make her happy. If she lets down her guard with you, please make her happy." Treville said nothing … just inclined his head, and to Athos, that said everything.

14AA41

Musketeer Garrison

San Antonio, TX

Same Time

By all rights, Constance should have been working on quite a few other projects tied to the Musketeers and making the renovated fire station into a proper Garrison for her boys. There were a few more furniture purchases to make, and she still had to start looking at bedroom furniture for the barracks (she especially wanted to make sure that the aforementioned furniture was sturdy). However, Father Callaghan … who might as well be one of her boys, never mind that he was older than Captain Treville … asked for her help. He proposed a GennFaire (note the play on words) for the community. He'd already received permission for some of the vendors to set up inside the St. Ambrose gymnasium … those would be the vendors selling food and other non-consumable wares. However, he needed help in determining if outside vendors (such as a bouncy house, pony rides, and a petting zoo) would fit into the fields surrounding the gymnasium. And he'd enlisted Constance's help to do that.

And, to be fair (no pun intended), she'd tried working on the upgrades and such for the Garrison that she and Captain Treville discussed, but found her attention wandering (even before she knew about Rochefort's attack against Athos and Tristan. But after she received that frantic phone call, Constance was unable to return even a bit of attention to work. And so, she focused on the plans for the GennFaire (really, Philip? REALLY?) while she waited for word from the hospital. That call came in a few hours earlier. Her brother was injured, but he would be all right, and they needed to figure out a way to drop-kick Rochefort off the planet. As long as he lived, he would be a threat to everyone whom Constance loved, including her unborn child … and that, Constance would not tolerate. Especially when Constance thought of her baby … her baby and d'Artagnan's.

Joselais told her that when she became a mother, her focus would change. Her priorities would change … everything would change. Constance asked her if that was true even before the baby was born, and the older woman inclined her head with a small smile. She observed that when she realized Tristan was on her way that she was terrified. She was now responsible for a tiny human currently residing within her. Constance didn't ask if she'd been afraid she would be like her mother … the answer was entirely too obvious even now. Joselais added that she never took the stories about cravings seriously until she was pregnant, and provided stories of her own. Constance shuddered then when Joselais told her about some of those cravings and she shuddered now when she remembered. Ick. Just … ick.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, as the case may be), the telephone ringing distracted her from thoughts of vanilla ice cream doused with marinara sauce ( _ew, ew, ew_!), and as Constance picked up the receiver, the familiar voice of Anne de Brueil floated down the line, saying, "Constance, it's Milady. I need to brief you on a few things." Oh, terrific … Constance didn't mind the additional work, but when Athos' wife used her headhunter alias, it generally meant bad news for her boys. She knew that Athos was recovering, but she had many other boys to worry about. Perhaps realizing this, her sort-of sister-in-law added a bit hastily, "All of the Musketeers are fine, although Maddox might not be by the time I'm finished with him."

That … didn't sound good. Milady went on, "First, I'll be bringing a roster over to you later today, after Athos sets up a schedule for a guard detail. Secondly, Maddox has decided to do the right thing … finally … and is letting Josie go. I'm telling you this so your husband's jaw doesn't become unhinged when someone mentions Treville asking her out on a date." Constance very virtuously didn't remind Milady that she was the one who suggested to Rob Maddox that he should start courting his ex-wife … she didn't think the other woman wanted to hear it. There was a brief silence, then Milady added slowly, "So, you have noticed."

"Well, of course I have! That man is the closest thing I have to a father nowadays. And if I thought for one moment that it would be necessary, I'd give her a shovel talk she'd never forget!" Constance retorted. There was an amused snort from Milady, but nothing more was said. Constance added, almost afraid to hear the answer, "And what of Rochefort? What are we going to do about him?" She wanted to kill him. He was a danger to Anne, he hurt Athos, he tried to hurt Tristan, and he would keep trying until he got what he wanted. Constance had had enough of him.

"We're working on that … more specifically, we're working on a plan that would lure him into a trap. The trouble is, the only bait we can think of is Anne Maurice, and really, I don't think your dear brother Aramis would go for that. Honestly, I don't think Athos and Treville like it much either, because they won't be able to guarantee her safety," was the somewhat predictable response. Constance bit her lip. No, Aramis wouldn't like that … but Anne deserved to hear this for herself, to make this decision for herself. Milady went on, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant, "Before you call her, though … because I know you will … I need you to make another call. I'll give you the number. When you call, tell whoever answers, ' _it is time_.' They'll understand what you mean. This … it isn't for Rochefort, it isn't about Rochefort. This is a gift for Athos. And that's all I'll say for now."

Oookay, then. Constance dutifully jotted down the number, mentally reminding herself to do a 411 on it at her first opportunity. And then, because she was a younger sister and because the woman on the other end of the line had caused so much trouble for her family, even before she kidnapped Constance, she said quietly, "Just remember my warning to you in the past. I will utterly destroy you if you ever hurt Athos again." She didn't really fear that, not any more … over the last six months, she'd watched them both … watched as the walls around Athos' heart were slowly chipped away at.

There was a soft huff of laughter, and Milady responded, "So noted. Just remember, Constance, I'm not the enemy, not any more. And if it helps, I'll promise to never kidnap you again." Constance rolled her eyes, muttering, ' _good-_ _ **bye**_ _, Milady_ ' and hung up the phone. She looked at the number. Hmmm. The area code was 702, which meant Nevada. Who did Milady know in Nevada, and what kind of gift would be there? Constance made a mental note of the exchange … she could at least pin point where in Nevada this mysterious gift was. Later, though … she had calls to make. The GennFaire could just wait a while (and Philip really needed to change that name). Musketeer business came first.

TBC

Additional Notes: After some consideration, I've decided against including Sylvie as Raoul's mother (sorry to the Sylvie fans). I just couldn't work it out to my satisfaction. Aimee is the modern counterpart to Marie de Rohan, and I'm still weighing about whether her child with Athos will still be called 'Raoul.' As to the sumo wrestlers … I actually enjoy watching sumo wrestling, more than wrestling or boxing, and loved the idea of former sumo wrestlers as Musketeers or Musketeer recruits. Also, I have a major soft spot for Kamekona on _Hawaii Five-Oh_. Finally, the GennFaire. Yesterday was a local community fair, and I manned the table for my civic organization (the Ruritans) for an hour before wandering around … next thing I knew, I had Philip perking up. And yes … Patrick Fitzgerald, who played Philip, was born in 1962, which makes him older than Hugo Speer by seven years (and older than me by eight).


	13. Chapter 12: The American Inseparables

Author's Notes: For those who are curious about what the American Inseparables look like, here's a cheat sheet … Hector Ramirez: **Oscar Isaac** ; Dante Newsome: **Tyrese Gibson** ; Christopher (Kit) O'Malley: _Seamus Dever_ ; Adrian Donato: **Bryce Cass**. Oscar Isaac played Poe Dameron in _Star Wars: The Force Awakens_ and _Apocalypse in X-Men: Apocalypse_ ; Tyrese Gibson was Sgt. Bobby Epps in the _Transformers_ movies; Seamus Dever recently completed his role as Detective Kevin Ryan in _Castle_ ; while Bryce Cass played Hector Rincon in _Battle: Los Angeles_. So, in this chapter, we meet the American Inseparables (hence the title); Constance comes downstairs to find a somewhat alarming scene; while Tommy and Athos hammer out a plan to ensure Rochefort goes down.

Reviewer Responses:

Guest: Actually, Anne has no stones to be throwing in this instance … and what's more, she knows it. Not to worry … their reconciliation won't be derailed. On the contrary, it may be strengthened since they're on equal footing. Anne _will_ track Aimee down, but not to harm her or Athos' child (or rather, she'll have Adele do it).

Dg101: Thanks ; )

A reader: LOL … yeah, that was what I was going for. My mother has told me about some of her cravings, which had me reacting the same way.

Chapter Twelve

The American Inseparables

Musketeer Garrison

San Antonio, TX

Same Time

"We need to head over to the hospital … de la Fere was shot."

Those were the words that greeted Kit O'Malley when he walked into the Garrison, the Musketeer headquarters here in San Antonio, Dante Newsome at his side. The de facto leader of their little group, whom their CO had taken to calling his 'American Inseparables,' looked grim, but it was Dante who said what Kit was thinking, "Athos got shot? I thought Aramis was the bullet magnet, or was it d'Art?" Hector rolled his eyes at Dante's comment, although there was a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"It's both of them, actually … what? It's true. And you're just as bad, Kit," Adrian Donato observed. The nineteen year old appeared behind Hector, adding, "I just talked to Constance. We'll be part of the protection detail around Athos' former brother-in-law and older sister. She also said that Patu and Tanaka will be the muscle this time around, so maybe Dante will have a chance to show me some of his MMA moves. I never have the chance to watch during any of our fights, since I'm trying to make sure my ass doesn't get kicked."

"Actually, you'll be paying attention to our lead, since this is our first protective detail … and this is a brother Musketeer's family," Hector corrected. Kit looked at his friend, who was twisting the ring on the third finger of his right hand. Their first protective detail, and their first actual mission as Musketeers. And while three of them were soldiers, with the Musketeers, they were starting over again and having to prove themselves, again. Hector added, "I've already called Naomi, let her know that I might be late several times this week. You boys might want to do the same thing for the ladies in your lives."

"I'll call Melodie later. What do we know about the situation?" Dante asked. Kit, Hector and Adrian looked at him expectantly, and Dante added, sounding more than a little irritated, "What? She's with her parents and sisters in Myrtle Beach, remember?" Oh … right. They had forgotten that this was the week Dante's wife was out of town. Some people had all the luck … a beach house at Myrtle Beach, even during the off-season. And Melodie knew lots of pretty girls. True, they wouldn't be in bikinis … not in January, not even in Myrtle Beach (probably not even in Key West), but they were still pretty girls. Dante repeated, sounding more than a touch impatient, "The situation, what do we know about it?"

"It's the same guy who shot de la Fere's brother-in-law a few nights back … turns out that Maddox put one Giles Rochefort away about eight years ago. Yeah, I see that you remember that case. In any event, about two years ago, Rochefort escaped while he was out on parole and turned up in Montreal, started causing trouble for the Montreal office … including Anne Maurice. He went too far, and ended up back in prison. No idea how he got out this time, although the smart money is on Richelieu," Adrian commented. Kit rolled his eyes. From what he heard from du Vallon, the smart money was almost _always_ on Armand Richelieu.

Hector took up the narrative, explaining, "From what Constance told me, it was de la Fere's turn to pick up his niece Tristan at school, and take her around town to finish up an art project. Rochefort trailed them, and shot de la Fere before fighting him. Tristan ran off, found a tool shed, ran back and clobbered Rochefort with a shovel nearly as big as she is, and then she and de la Fere made their great escape." Kit heard Dante whistle beside him.

"So, this jackass is responsible for putting Rob Maddox … who really isn't a bad dude, just has a hard time keeping it in his pants … and one of our brothers in the hospital?" Dante summed up and Hector nodded. Oh. Yeah. Kit had forgotten that Maddox helped Dante by getting his younger brother hooked up with that charity his ex-wife was involved with, the one run by that priest … Jennette? Something like that, but not exactly. Dante wasn't blind to the other man's faults, but he would also never forget that his actions likely saved his brother's future and life. And, like Dante himself said, Athos de la Fere was their brother. He was a bit on the reserved side, and seemed a bit standoffish, but he was family … you didn't mess with family. Dante added, "Any other good news?"

"Constance is pregnant? OW!" Adrian offered, and then complained when Hector swatted the back of his head. Yeah, that was good news, but it wasn't exactly news to any of them. Kit, who'd seen four sisters through multiple pregnancies, figured it out weeks ago. All four of them regarded Constance as a sister … especially Kit, who was reminded of his youngest sister Amanda every time he looked at the young den mother. She actually looked like Amanda, even if she was a few years older.

"Aside from that," Hector allowed, "that's all we know. So, we need to get to the hospital, double-time. And I mean what I said … call your ladies. We don't want a repeat of the last overtime we pulled." The other three men all groaned at that (although, in Adrian's case, it was his aunt, rather than his wife). No … no, none of them wanted that. The Musketeer wives could be scary ladies … especially for their husbands! And Hector was on the verge of reminding them the sooner they got to the hospital, the sooner they could be back, when the door to the renovated fire station was flung open and two men stalked inside. As one, the four American inseparables straightened up and shifted until they stood in a straight line.

The older of the men haughtily informed them, "I _demand_ to see Athos de la Fere … immediately!" Hector merely raised his eyebrows. Oh … really? Hector didn't know this man from Adam, and until he had a clue of his identity, there was no way he would let him anywhere near his injured brother … regardless of this jack-ass' entitlement issues! A glance at his brothers told him that they felt the same. From there, things rapidly went downhill.

14AA41

Constance Lupiac had seen a great many strange things in her role as Musketeer little sister, den mother, hacker, and wife to d'Artagnan Lupiac. Of course, she still needed brain bleach when she thought about something that happened the previous week. She'd been visiting a local community college to learn about their BLET class when she'd seen it (and even now, feared she would be mentally scarred for life) … what kind of bimbo went to one of the offices on campus dressed in a flesh-toned bikini? And then tried to justify it by saying she had just come from the gym? It truly brought all new meaning to the phrase, 'letting it all hang out.' Wow.

But as she descended the stairs from the dormitory portion of the Garrison, the sight she was confronted with was … not exactly strange, but also not something she expected to see: Louis Roy on his knees, surrounded by three of the American Inseparables, while the fourth (Adrian) rested a restraining hand against Thomas de la Fere's chest. Louis was protesting loudly and Constance whistled high and loud, immediately silencing all six men. Tommy closed his eyes and allowed his head to drop to his chest, and Adrian (wisely) took it for the surrender it was. He dropped his hand from Tommy's chest as Constance asked in her sweetest voice, "Would someone like to tell me what's going on here? No, not you, Louis … I want to hear it from someone is capable of telling the unvarnished truth." She ignored his indignant expression, and turned her attention to Hector, asking, "What happened? I think you can let him up now." Hector glanced at his other two brothers, silently communicating in that way that both sets of Inseparables had, and then as one, they all released Louis.

"We were getting ready to leave for the hospital to meet with de … to meet with Athos, just like we promised we would, when these two came in. This pendejo immediately demanded to see Athos and started throwing his weight around as if he was someone … and no, I don't care if you're the Queen of England. I'm a Musketeer, and the only people I answer to are Anne Maurice, Jean Treville, and Constance Lupiac! Not you!" Hector snarled. Constance tried very hard not to smile and blush, not just at his words, but at his vehemence.

Dante picked up the narrative, adding, "We told him that Athos wasn't available. Like Hector said, we don't know either of these guys. For all we knew, it could have been another case of mistaken identity, and we weren't about to risk Athos' life further. That's when this jackass," indicating Louis, "decided to shove Adrian. That wouldn't have been a problem, Adrian can take care of himself, but the other guy," indicating Tommy, "tried to get him to calm down, and he took a swing at him. That's when we took him down."

That … sounded about right. While the American Inseparables were as protective of each other as their Canadian counterparts, they also respected each other's ability to defend themselves (just like Constance's boys). That was the only explanation that would have made sense to Constance for what she'd seen when she came downstairs … they weren't protecting each other, but Tommy. She looked at Athos' little brother, asking, "When did you find out?" Louis looked from her to his brother, mouth opening and closing, but Constance ignored him for the moment.

"As we pulled up to the gate, I turned my cell back on and found the messages. I … is he okay? Is my brother going to be all right?" Tommy asked urgently. Constance ignored the startled glances between the four newest Inseparables and skirted around Louis to take Tommy's hand. Whatever issues she had with Tommy (and they did exist), she did believe that he loved his older siblings. She didn't particularly approve of the way he showed (or didn't show) that love, but that was between the three de la Fere children.

"I won't like to you … he's hurting badly, and both he and Maddox are still in danger, but Athos will be fine. Whatever you and I think of Milady, she would kill anyone who harms him," Constance replied. Tommy sighed, looking as if he'd just deflated. But he offered her a tired smile as he nodded. Constance glanced at Dante, and he nodded, stepping forward to steer Tommy toward the men's room, where he could clean up. That left Constance free to deal with Louis, and she turned to face the former CEO with her most unimpressed look, asking, "And as for you, Louis … what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I didn't know they were Musketeers?" Louis offered. Behind him, Constance caught sight of Hector rolling his eyes. She merely glared at the ex-husband of her best friend, and Louis sighed, "Well, it was worth a shot. All I wanted was to make sure that Athos was all right. We may not be friends, but we're brothers in a sense." They were, but … Hector opened his mouth, and then hesitated. He caught her eye questioningly, and Constance inclined her head, just enough so that he could take the hint.

"Then all you had to do was say, ' _we're Athos de la Fere's brothers, is he all right_?' Instead, you barged in here and demanded to see him, and you could have been anyone. You could have been the bastard who shot both him and his brother-in-law. Stop making faces, Constance … you do realize that all four of us have had dealings with Rob Maddox, and all four of us get along fine with him?" Hector asked and Constance rolled her eyes.

"We get along fine with him, we like him, but that doesn't mean tacit approval. Okay, now that it's been settled that these two don't mean any harm, do we take them with us to the hospital, or should someone stay in case Rocks-for-brains shows up?" Dante asked. Constance blinked and mentally ran through what he just said, then stared at him in shock. Dante shrugged a bit defensively, asking, "What? He can't be very bright if he thinks he can take down the Musketeers. Better men have tried and failed."

He … had a point there. A very good one actually, and after a moment, Constance replied slowly, "They come with us. If only so someone can keep an eye on Louis there. Quit pouting, Louis, it's distinctly unattractive in a grown man … and don't worry, you won't be seeing Anne canoodling with Aramis. Far more likely that you'll see Milady canoodling with Athos. Depending on how fast he plans to move, you might even see Treville kissing Joselais' hand. Yes, Tommy, I will tell you all about on the drive over!" As she herded the six men out of the Garrison, being sure to lock it behind her, Constance had the thought that being the den mother of the Musketeers was providing invaluable assistance for being a mum!

14AA41

Athos de la Fere's hospital room

Half an hour later

He could have lost his brother.

Thomas de la Fere sat in the chair beside his brother's bed, afraid to touch him and wake him and unwilling to look away. He could have lost his older brother. While the gunshot wound itself wasn't fatal, he'd been shot at an abandoned hospital outside town, whilst protecting his niece … their niece. Athos could have died. He could have lost his brother, when he'd only just gotten him back, gotten both his brother and his sister back.

He could have … but he didn't. That didn't stop him from watching his brother's chest rise and fall with every breath. It didn't stop him from glancing at the machines that monitored Athos' life signs. And it certainly didn't stop him from moving closer whenever his brother showed any sign of distress. He could have lost his brother, but he didn't, and now he had yet another chance to make things right with Athos.

"You are making my skin crawl, Thomas," his brother mumbled and Tommy grinned in spite of himself when a set of lids slid open to reveal a pair of very tired blue eyes. He leaned forward, moving his chair with him, as Athos closed his eyes briefing, murmuring, "When did you get here? What time is it?" Thomas checked his watch, listening to the foot traffic outside his brother's hospital room all the while. Living with a former Navy SEAL these last six months taught him several things … including maintaining awareness of his surroundings at all times. He thought he'd had a pretty good handle on that. Nick proved him wrong.

"The plan landed about two hours ago … we stopped off at the Garrison to see what we could learn from Constance, but met your American counterparts instead. Their meeting with Louis went about the way you would expect," Tommy replied ruefully. His older brother from his birth father had gotten steadily better about behaving like an actual human being, but whenever he was worried or frightened, he back-slid. Athos huffed softly, and Thomas continued, "As to the time, it's about eight in the evening. I don't know where Anne is."

"I do," Athos said simply, and Tommy tried not to twitch at the quiet certainty in his brother's voice. He thought about the women he'd encountered during the course of his years away from Pinon Deux, wondered if he'd ever been sure of any of them for any reason, and realized Kat was the only one who fit that description. That was astonishing … and troubling. Not that it was Kat, but that he could have never been sure of any of the other lovers and potential lovers in his life. What that said about him, his brother, and his sister-in-law, Tommy wasn't entirely sure … but he was fairly certain that it didn't speak well for him. Athos added in a very soft voice, "I just wish I could be sure about how she'll react when she learns that I have a child with another woman. If she walks away, I'll deserve it …"

Now that, Tommy wasn't about to let pass. He leaned forward, resting his hand on his brother's wrist, and enunciated, "Like … hell. You and she were divorced at the time … not to mention, you were reeling from her departure after the whole mess with Rochefort and the destruction of the first Garrison." They'd stayed up late talking one night while Tommy was recovering from being shot. Tommy was devastated that revealing their sister's past hurt her so terribly, and Athos needed to talk to someone other than his brother Musketeers about Aimee and their child. Tommy slid his hand down to squeeze Athos' hand, murmuring, "If nothing else, she'll understand that. Anne may not have grown up with siblings, but she knows a bit about the bonds that exist between warriors." His months in San Francisco, and his conversations with Kat in particular, taught him a great deal about the woman his sister-in-law was becoming. Maybe even the woman she'd been all those years ago.

Athos offered him a half smile, answering quietly, "We shall see." Personally, Tommy thought if Anne threw a bitch fit about Athos sleeping with another woman while they were divorced and after she stood him up (yeah, Athos was late, but he had a damn good reason), then she didn't deserve his brother. But Athos, eternally responsible Athos (except when it came to his own well-being), wouldn't see it that way. On the other hand, while Athos might not see it that way, he was willing to bet that their big sister might. Yeah, she and Anne were friends, but Josie tried to be fair in her dealings with people.

Which brought him to another point … Tommy looked at his brother, asking, "By the way. When we were getting ready to leave the Garrison and come to the hospital, Constance said that we might see your captain kissing Josie's hand. She also said that she would tell me all about it on the drive over, but then that young kid … d'Artagnan's counterpart among the Yanks … started arguing with Louis in the car over whether soccer is better than hockey, and Constance didn't have the chance to tell me much of anything. What's going on with that? The last time I heard, Josie and her ex were trying to reconcile." He also knew better than to call any Southerner a 'Yank,' much less a Texan, but old habits died hard. Besides, they were Americans, so they were Yanks.

And it wasn't as though Tommy really had an issue with that potential reconciliation going ka-blooey. As far as he was concerned, Maddox wasn't nearly good enough for his sister. Anne once called him a fool and a hypocrite, and Tommy knew that she was right, but he didn't think he was being a hypocrite this time. Athos hadn't cheated on Anne with Aimee. However, Maddox did cheat on Josie … more than once. Josie wanted to try to reconcile with Maddox, and Tommy had supported her (if only because she was his sister and she wouldn't be happy if she didn't at least make the attempt). But he didn't like the other man, and made no secret of it.

"They were … but Maddox realized that only one of them was making a true effort, as opposed to a token effort, and it wasn't him. And during the last six months, I've watched the captain go from wary tolerance to appreciation to … well, he's definitely attracted to her. He cares for her. I've told him that I won't give him a shovel talk … I have too much respect for them both … and I can't make her love him, if he does love her. But if she does let down her guard … maybe he can make her happy. She hasn't been happy, Tommy, as hard as she's tried. She's met Maddox more than half way, she's taken his cancellations and re-scheduling with good grace, but … she's not been happy," Athos replied.

Tommy wished he could say that he was surprised by the news, but he really wasn't. And while he respected the bond between Jean Treville and his older brother (more to the point, he respected just how much Treville cared for Athos) … he didn't know the man well enough to respect him. Thus, he _would_ be getting a shovel talk from Tommy at his first opportunity. But for now, there were other things to speak of, and he asked, "What about Rochefort? What progress have you made in getting him?"

"We're working on a plan to lure him into a trap, but there are various pitfalls. We know that he wants Maddox dead, and he wants Anne Maurice for his own. I cannot risk Anne Maurice's life, and I will not risk Maddox's," Athos replied. What went unsaid was his fear that doing so would hurt not just their sister, but their niece as well. His brother couldn't guarantee the safety of their sister's ex-husband or their current CEO. But they had to use one or both for bait … either than or use Rochefort's own arrogance against him.

An idea took root in the back of Tommy's mind, a way to protect both Maddox (even though he didn't deserve it) and Anne Maurice (who probably did) and capture Rochefort without risking anyone else. As Athos looked toward the water, Tommy took the hint/request and used the time he needed to pour the water into a cup and make sure the straw was in a place where Athos could easily drink from it to polish the idea. He wasn't even sure if it was a feasible plan, but if it wasn't, Athos would tell him.

"He wants Anne Maurice for himself," Tommy observed slowly, thinking out loud as much as he was talking to his brother, "and he wants Maddox dead. What if we gave him one of those as bait, and used the other to lure him the rest of the way into the trap?" Athos' eyes narrowed over the top of his cup, and Tommy could see his brother's mind working, mentally running through plans. That alone was a positive sign. Tommy leaned forward, even though he could hear his brother just fine … he enjoyed it when his brother went into MacGyver mode, as their father always called it. Athos might not have been resourceful in the same way Tommy's childhood hero was, but he was good at finding ways to turn disadvantages into advantages.

Athos took another sip of water, murmuring, "That … that might actually work. We know that Maddox is going to be fine, given time, but Rochefort has no way of knowing that. In fact, very little about this has been reported. We would need the assistance of the police department and the media … or maybe not. Not necessarily the media, although the police would need to be in on the deception for this to work. Maybe feed a story to the media that a shooting victim has died, find another man who was killed after being shot that night in the same general part of town. The victim's name isn't being released at the request of the family, but sources say that the man's wife is a director at Bourbon Enterprises."

Tommy was nodding, half in acknowledgment and half in approval. If Rochefort believed that Maddox was dead, their former brother-in-law was safe … and most likely, so were Josie and Tristan. That still left Anne Maurice. He didn't know the lady, aside from the fact that she was his former sister-in-law (and for the first time, it occurred to him that both of the people targeted by Rochefort were married to his siblings in the past. How weird) and that Louis treated her quite badly. Oh, and he also knew that she was hesitantly embarking on a relationship with Athos' brother Musketeer Aramis. But of the lady herself, he knew next to nothing.

Athos, on the other hand, knew her much better. A slow smile was spreading across his brother's face, and as Athos carefully nudged the cup away, he requested, "Could you find Captain Treville, Aramis, and Porthos for me? I'm not sure where d'Artagnan is, if he's even here, but if he's here, we'll need him as well. See if you can track down the American Inseparables as well. I think I have a workable plan to cut the head off the snake once and for all." Tommy nodded immediately, rising to his feet as Athos leaned back against the pillows. He hoped that his brother mentally 'cut the head off the snake' metaphorically speaking, rather than literally … otherwise, things might get messy. On the other hand, it would give him the chance to call his big brother the Highlander … Athos was every bit as bad-ass as Connor or Duncan McLeod. Maybe even more so!

TBC

Additional Notes: The story Constance tells about a woman walking into a college office wearing only a two-piece bathing suit? Yeah, that really happened. I'll spare you the details, but that actually did happen. And BLET is short for 'basic law-enforcement training.' We'll hear more about Aimee and her child in the next chapter, along with the secret that Anne has been hiding from Athos. I couldn't resist throwing in references to _MacGyver_ (which is returning as a prequel this fall … oh, squee!) and _Highlander_.


	14. Chapter 13: While We Were Apart

Author's Notes: Ugh … I am _so_ sorry it took me so long to get this up. We just unrolled out a new process at work, and I was the point of the spear, so to speak. It's been a rough few weeks, and while things are still … erm… interesting, it's a dull roar. At least at the moment. Next week, I submit the spreadsheet for the spring 2016 graduates to get their diplomas. My head has been full of transcripts and diplomas, but I finally managed to get the time, energy, and inspiration to get this done. So … in this chapter, Anne and Athos exchange truths; Rochefort overhears something he finds _extremely_ interesting; while Tommy _still_ doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut. I've been informed that there will likely be another story added to the series, and Treville will be taking center stage for that (with Athos as a very strong support). Title to be announced once I figure it out.

Reviewer Responses:

A reader: Methos … oh, my that's a good question! Would they be allies or enemies? Hmm. That could go _sooo_ many different ways! Yeah, the bathing suit story came up again at the birthday/farewell party held last Tuesday (disinfectant was mentioned, if that assists at all). Here's a new chapter, hope you enjoy it (late as it is).

Chapter Thirteen

While We Were Apart

San Antonio Memorial Hospital

A few hours later

It was time for more truths to be spoken, and to say that she was a nervous wreck would have something of an understatement. Ever since her conversation with Athos about why he'd avoided her before she left the estate, she'd been haunted by memories. Not just about the nightmare he'd experienced that night, but the actions which led to that nightmare. She and Tommy had argued again … the last, explosive confrontation between two people who may not have cared for each other, but loved Athos. It was ironic, really … Anne hated Tommy for telling Athos the truth about her entrance in their lives and ruining her dream come to life; while Tommy hated her for lying to his brother and breaking his heart. They hated each other because in some ways, they were too much alike.

She'd been alone, stewing over Athos' most recent withdrawal from her. She'd been so frustrated, because she'd seen the desire in his eyes, the desire and the love, warring with the hurt, and the hurt had won out. In those last few days before she finally left the de la Fere estate, the hurt always won out. She couldn't bear to look at Tommy, and so she withdrew completely to her own sanctuary … where Tommy found her. They'd argued and this time, Athos heard them. This time, enraged by Tommy calling her out on her lies while glossing over his own, Anne had picked up one of her hairpins … weapons in and of themselves … fully intending to make Tommy bleed. And it was then that Athos entered the room.

That night, he'd had the nightmare that she'd killed his brother, a dream so realistic, he'd been able to smell blood. There were other triggers, of course, but that was the strongest one. She hadn't understood at the time … hadn't understood why he chose his brother over her, but as the years passed and she came to know people she came to love as siblings, she began to understand. She also came to understand that if he had walked in on Tommy trying to hurt Anne, he would have intervened as well.

But, like Athos, letting go of the hurt was no easy task … hurt and betrayal had overshadowed her love for him for so long, and the day he'd failed to meet her … That was the end of her attempt at reconciliation with him, or so she told herself. But her journey to San Francisco, and her encounter with the shade of the woman from whom she'd taken her code name changed all of that. She'd left Montreal, wanting to put the vicious woman she'd become behind her. She left San Francisco, swearing that she would become a protector, rather than a predator.

She could never leave Milady behind … she knew that now. But she _could_ use Milady to protect, rather than harm. While in San Francisco, she'd watched not only _Avengers_ with Kat and Alex, but _Iron Man_ , and the Black Widow had struck a chord with her. She and Natasha Romanov weren't that different, really … and if the auburn-haired girl could choose a new path, then so could Anne. She had red in her ledger as well, and she could never wipe it out. Never. But she _could_ make new choices. And that was what she was doing now. If she and Athos were to have a chance together, they had to learn to trust one another again, and for that to happen, they had to be honest with one another. No matter how much it hurt.

The American Inseparables were leaving Athos' room as she approached, and Hector Ramirez inclined his head with a small smile, a smile that she returned. She liked Hector, and from what she'd seen of his wife Naomi, she would fit right in with Josie, Constance, and the rest of the ladies of the Musketeers. Hector murmured as they passed one another, "He won't be awake much longer … the pain and the worry is taking a lot out of him." Yes, she could imagine. When he wasn't worrying about taking out Rochefort, he was worrying about Josie and Tristan. Still, her husband was sitting up in bed, looking tired but alert. He smiled as she entered and held out his hand to her. She accepted it, sitting on the bed beside him and kissing his knuckles.

"Time for more truths, my love?" he asked and she nodded, trying not to let her own hesitation and anxiety show … however, she wasn't nearly as successful at keeping her surprise from showing when he next inquired, "Will you permit me to go first?" Her mouth fell open, and he added a bit shyly, "I fear you will not forgive me for this truth." Anne's heart dropped to her feet, but she straightened her shoulders and bobbed her head, allowing him to unburden himself. Was she ready to hear this? What would she hear?

"I have a daughter," Athos told her hoarsely as she held his hand. Anne wasn't given a chance to react as he went on, "That day, I fully intended to meet you at the church. I'm still not sure if I would have gone with you, but I did want to see you. But Rochefort had left us one last … gift. A bomb was planted at the Musketeer Garrison, and it detonated not long after he was taken into custody. I was briefly knocked unconscious by the force of the blast, and when I came to …" He bowed his head, fingers twitching in her own, and Anne fought the desire to pull him into her arms. He needed to say this, she realized. After it was said, then she could hold him.

"When I woke, there was so much … I had brother Musketeers who were dead or dying. They _needed_ me, Anne, and I couldn't leave them. I _couldn't_. And so, as soon as things were under control, I left to find you. But you'd already gone, and … what I didn't know was that a lady friend of Aramis' had followed me, at his request. She took me to her apartment … truly, I don't remember how I even got there. She found me near the bench, and the next thing I remember, I was in her shower," Athos explained hoarsely. He kept his eyes on their joined hands, because he could not bear to look in her eyes. She swallowed hard, because she knew her Athos.

Anne murmured, "She looked after you." Athos' head reared up, and Anne repeated hoarsely, "She looked after you, took care of you. You probably were in shock … between trying to save your brothers and trying to meet me." Anne heard about the explosion as she was leaving Montreal, but it never occurred to her that Athos might have been affected. Anne murmured, "She did my job for me, which was to take care of you. There's nothing to forgive, Athos … unless you plan on telling me that you've turned your back on your child?" Not likely.

Athos immediately shook his head, choking out, "NO! No, even though Aimee lives in Quebec City, I was there as often as I could before we were reassigned to San Antonio. I am not a good father, Anne … I've only held my child twice. But I support my Sabine and her mother in any way I can. Oh, Anne, please don't cry … I know I've not been a good husband, but I've never stopped loving you!" Anne wiped at her tears before cupping her husband's jaw tenderly.

"I'm not crying because you've hurt me or because I'm angry, you idiot," she told him with the same fond exasperation she heard from him whilst addressing his brothers (especially Aramis), "I'm crying because while we were apart … I have a child as well. But unlike Aimee, I've kept my son away from his father. I've kept myself away from my son as well. In the beginning, it was because I couldn't bear to be a mother, much less to this child … and I wanted to punish his father. But I've come to realize that while I've been punishing my little boy's father, I've been punishing him as well. Our son, Athos … I've been punishing our son for things he had no control over." And now, the truth was out … and they would learn if he could forgive her.

14AA41

He honestly wasn't surprised when tears started rolling down Anne's face. After all, he _had_ cheated on her … how was he any better than Rob Maddox? No, they weren't married any more in the eyes of the law, but in his heart, he was still hers, and always would be. He had cheated on her, and that afternoon had created a beautiful little girl. He couldn't regret Sabine's existence … the times he was able to FaceTime with his angel were often highlights of his week.

However, he could and did regret hurting his wife. Nor could he truly be angry with her for keeping his son from him … especially given his downward spiral after he left Pinon Deux. He would not have made a good father for the child … and it wasn't so hard to imagine that he could have hurt the little one. And that's when it caught up with him … he had a son. He had a son! He asked, struggling to keep his voice from cracking, "What's his name … how old is he?" Anne gasped and Athos wiped away her tears with his thumbs, murmuring, "I want to know all about him, including who's been taking care of him. Are they good people?" Anne tried and failed several times to speak, and he worried that he'd not been accepting enough.

But then she whispered, "Justinian." Athos looked at his wife in astonishment, and the corners of Anne's mouth tilted upward as she asked wryly, "I did pay attention when you and Tommy talked about your lessons at dinner. I was so … so very angry with you, Athos, but when I looked into our son's eyes, I kept seeing yours. I couldn't bring myself to name him after you, or your illustrious ancestor, but naming him after the Byzantine Emperor who has long fascinated you? That's something else entirely."

He didn't mention the fact that Justin Marchand had been the only member of Tommy's circle who had ever treated Anne with anything approaching respect. She went on, "He's getting ready to turn seven years old, and in some ways, he's a pint-sized version of you. He's smart and curious, and whenever Tamsyn … that's his foster mother … whenever she's sad, he crawls up into her lap and hugs her. And there's a little of me in him, too … I recognize the wicked grin when he's just about to do something he probably shouldn't, but can't quite help himself. And Tamsyn … Tamsyn is the mother I wish I had. Not that she's old enough to be my mother. She's in her forties, single, and until I came to her with Justinian, she'd given up on ever being a mother. She's kind and loyal and loving, and Justinian adores her. To him, I'm Miss Anne, who sometimes comes to visit him and brings all manner of gifts."

Athos wondered if Anne heard the love in her own voice when she spoke of their son. She stopped suddenly and looked at him, murmuring, "You truly do forgive me. I kept your son from you, and you still forgive me." That … was a little more complicated than just forgiveness. However, Athos plowed ahead, because it seemed that she had forgiven him for failing to be the husband he should have been.

"I … I would have been a very bad father. In those first weeks, I was a … I wasn't a fit brother, how could I have been a fit husband or father? Forgive … I'm not angry, I understand why you did it," Athos explained, growing more and more sure that he was screwing this up six ways from Sunday. A gentle hand against his cheek brought his attention back to the beautiful woman he'd never stopped loving, no matter how much he'd hated to admit it. There was … he didn't understand what he was seeing. Or maybe it would have been better to say, he didn't understand what he wasn't seeing … namely hatred, or anger, or bitterness.

"I have a picture of him … would you like to see our Justinian?" Anne asked very softly. Athos could only nod, and Anne pulled her cell from her blouse, brushing her finger over the display, a small smile playing about her lips as she paused. She turned around the phone, and Athos blinked. It was like staring into a mirror to the past. Justinian looked almost exactly as he did at seven … except, Justinian wasn't as solemn as he was. Instead, his smile was pure mischief, and Athos felt his breath catch in his throat.

But Anne wasn't finished surprising him. She said, "As soon as I leave here, I'll be contacting a … well, an ally who lives in Quebec City, and ask her to watch over Aimee and Sabine. Sabine may not be my daughter, but she _is_ yours … and she's Justinian's sister. Whatever I can do to protect her, I will. I swear this to you, Athos." Her green eyes were filled with determination, and Athos started to speak, but much to his mortification, he found himself yawning instead. Anne laughed, adding, "But for now, my love … sleep. I'll be here when you wake up. I promise." As Athos' eyes drifted shut, he knew that she would be nowhere else.

14AA41

Digeridoo Bar

San Antonio, TX

An hour and a half later

"So, you're telling me that Athos has a daughter with this Aimee woman in Quebec City … who was one of Aramis' conquests … and a son with Milady? I admit, I never would have seen Milady as particularly maternal, and what is it that Aramis has that draws women in like flies to honey? I don't get it," Louis Roy observed, sounding as annoying as ever. And Gilles Rochefort didn't get how he could have possibly gotten so lucky. He'd come to this bar because it was directly across the street from the hospital, and he was hoping to hear about something regarding Maddox or de la Fere. He could have never imagined hitting the mother lode.

He'd been tempted to order something hard when he entered the bar about three hours earlier, but his head was still aching from being hit with the shovel. Instead, he'd ordered a gin and tonic that he'd been nursing for the better part of an hour when Louis Roy and his equally annoying half-brother, Thomas de la Fere, entered the bar and chose the booth right behind his. He really didn't know what he'd done to deserve that run of luck, but he wasn't about to argue with it. Especially since it was providing him with such wonderful details that he could use to hurt de la Fere. It was even better since it was coming from his younger brother.

Said younger brother now observed, "I couldn't tell you, big bro … but that's the way it works. Anyhow, by all rights, I shouldn't know about my nephew, but my dear sister-in-law decided that given what happened the last time she kept something big from Athos, she should probably tell me first. I can't wait to meet him … Anne says that his adoptive mother lives in Utah, but she's working on getting Justinian here so he can meet his father." Rochefort's eyebrows shot up straight into his hairline. Oh, this was _most_ interesting! He withdrew his cell phone from his jacket pocket. If memory served, Utah was one of the smaller states, but he needed a lot more information … such as a city and the bitch's name. On the other hand, he did have the brat's name … Justinian … and if he was de la Fere's kid, then he was no more than six or seven. How many children of that age named 'Justinian' could there be in Utah? He should be able to narrow it down if he knew the nearest city, but this was already plenty to go on.

"Utah? She put him where no one could find him. Then again, that was probably the point. And Aimee lives in Quebec City with … what was her name? Sabrina?" Roy asked and Rochefort smirked to himself, because this just kept getting better and better all the time. He wasn't sure about contacts in Utah, but he had quite a few old … 'friends' in Quebec City, people who owed him a favor or ten. While Quebec City was large, he was sure his contacts could locate the woman.

"Not Sabrina, but you're close … Sabine. She named her after a woman who helped her once. She's just a baby … and honestly, I'm not even sure if Aimee actually likes my brother, or just felt sorry for him. He was … he was in a bad way at the time. They'd just put that prick Rochefort away, but he left them a little farewell gift in the form of a bomb at the Musketeer Garrison. Yeah, that was him … anyhow, Aramis called this friend of his, Aimee, a widow … she found my brother wandering around the square where he was supposed to meet Anne, and took him back to her apartment. Sabine was born nine months later," de la Fere number three commented. Rochefort ignored the insult to him, because right now, it was hardly important. However, the information that the smug little asshole kindly provided was extremely important.

"I remember that … and I remember the look Captain Treville gave me not long after it happened. I was being a bigger prick than usual … stop laughing, Tommy … and he just gave me this look like I was something he'd scraped off the bottom of his shoe after I'd whined about something foolish. Around that time, Porthos came around the corner with Constance, his arm in a cast, and I felt about two inches tall. I'd forgotten about it, you see … it didn't directly impact me, and so I forgot about it. Porthos broke his shoulder while protecting Constance from debris … Aramis had broken ribs when the blast knocked him across the room. Your brother had a concussion and really had no business wandering around Montreal, which is probably why Aramis had his friend track him down," Roy answered.

"Probably. You realize what this means … I actually have a nephew and niece to spoil. Yeah, I could spoil Henry, but he's in Montreal. Tristan … she is Uncle Athos' girl, and I have a sneaking suspicion that she still hasn't forgiven me for telling all and sundry that Aude was molested by her foster family's son after she got kicked out of the house. I suppose I really can't blame her. She wasn't ready for anyone else to know about it … even if I found out by accident, I should have talked to her first, make sure that she was okay with other people knowing. 'Sides, she's twelve years old … it's harder to spoil a kid that age," de la Fere observed.

"I'll take your word for it," was Roy's rather dry remark, "All of my nephews and nieces are under the age of ten, and they're notoriously easy … and fun … to spoil. Don't give me that look, if Sabine or Justinian are as cute as Henry is, you'll thoroughly enjoy spoiling them. I've noticed that your brother loves spoiling Tristan … I think she has him wrapped around her little pinky finger, not that I blame him. She's still young enough to spoil, really. I might have some nieces and nephews from Feron, but I'm willing to bet they're as tedious as he is." Rochefort's eyebrows again arched at the new information he was receiving tonight, but opted to put that on the backburner. At least for now. He had to deal with de la Fere and Maddox, and once those two were out of the way, d'Herblay would be that much easier to get to … and once he was out of the way, Anne was his for the taking.

"I wouldn't know about that. I'm still wrapping around the idea of Treville being attracted to my older sister. I've always thought she was beautiful, but for some reason, it just never occurred to me that my brother's captain would agree," de la Fere observed. The romantic life of the eldest de la Fere child held no interest for him, and so Rochefort pushed himself to his feet. His gin and tonic was already paid for, and he had a great deal of planning to do, including making calls to his people in Montreal. He didn't know anyone in Utah, but he was sure that his contacts did. That would work well as a distraction for de la Fere, and allow Rochefort to kill Maddox.

A matter of hours, a matter of minutes, a matter of seconds can make all the difference in the world. People who were running even a little bit late for work found their lives spared on September 11th, 2001. Seconds could make the difference between being caught in an accident and escaping harm. On that night, had Rochefort stayed only a few minutes more in the booth, his own life might have been spared. Still intent on their conversation, and paying no attention to the man who had just left, Louis Roy asked his younger brother, "So, ideas for taking out Rochefort? Because I know he hasn't given up on Anne." Hours, minutes, seconds … they could truly mean the difference between life and death.

TBC

Additional Author's Notes: The chapter title comes from the _Human League_ song, _Only Human_ (and why oh why do I keep coming back to their songs for this story? I really don't know, they just seem to fit with this story). The exact line is, ' _while we were apart, I was human, too_.' And in case you're wondering, yes ... the names of both children are important to the story, especially Justinian.


	15. Chapter 14: The Staff of the Wicked

Author's Notes: And in this chapter, you meet Justinian. I had to do a little impromptu research, because I was afraid I was making him too advanced for his age. He is, a little, but not too much. Besides, just look at his parents. With regards to the previous chapter, I thought briefly about Athos being angrier than he was, but he talked me out of it. Even if he thought he was in a position to judge (which he didn't), he was exhausted … too tired to be angry … so I hope that worked. St. George, Utah is an actual town, and I thought it was perfect for the location of a Musketeer's son. With regards to Justinian himself, I thought about bringing Raoul into the twenty-first century, until I realized it wasn't necessary because like his father, Raoul is an ancestor of Athos and Joselais, so he was already represented. Still, I loved the idea of Athos with kids … thus, Justinian and Sabine came to be. Justinian, as noted in the last chapter, was named for the Emperor Justinian, a historical figure who has fascinated me ever since I read the _Sarantine Mosaic_ by Guy Gavriel Kay (his emperor, Valerius, is based upon Justinian), and for Tommy's friend Justin. And Sabine? Well, I have a feeling a few of you have already figured that out. The dog featured in this first block, Paladin, is not a service dog, but a therapy dog. Oh, and diplomas were uploaded to our partners yesterday. Squee! So, in this chapter, Justinian makes his first appearance when he suffers a devastating loss; the Annes and the Musketeers learn of the assault; while Adele makes a horrifying discovery of her own in Quebec City. The chapter title comes from Ben Sira in the Old Testament of the Bible. The Staff there refers to the walking stick/weapon, but it works just as well for personnel.

Reviewer Responses:

A reader: LOL, yeah, I don't doubt you did think of that! I did survive it, although I was so stressed at one point that I began crying when an actress from a previous fandom replied to my tweet. I actually started wanting to see Athos interact with children after _The Exiles_ , when I realized it had to be Athos who got baby Henri to safety, as Porthos and d'Artagnan were busy helping Aramis create a distraction. I don't see him as a 'natural' father … I can imagine him being quite awkward at first (and terrified) with babies. It'll help that he won't be alone.

Chapter Fourteen

The Staff of the Wicked

Tamsyn Rhodes' Farm

Outside St. George, Utah

Three Days Later

He had no way of knowing it (yet), but Justinian Blaise Rhodes was very much like his cousin Tristan Maddox. They both loved words and what those words meant. They were both only children, and both were exceeding curious. And like his cousin Tristan, Justinian knew far more than what the adults around him thought he knew.

He knew that Miss Anne, the really pretty lady with dark hair and green eyes who sometimes came to visit them, was his other mommy, but she and Mommy hadn't officially told him yet, so he would kept that secret a little longer. It was funny, though, when he watched Mommy and Miss Anne together … Mommy always treated Miss Anne as if she was her own daughter or maybe an annoying little sister, although Justinian hadn't overheard that or worked that out on his own. Mommy actually told him that once, after Miss Anne visited … said that she regarded Miss Anne to be her egg-sas-perating little sister, because while Miss Anne was really smart, she did some really dumb stuff. She didn't say what dumb stuff Miss Anne, but from the muttering Mommy did after Miss Anne left that day, it had to do with Justinian's daddy.

Justinian also knew that he came from one of the original Musketeers, because of his unknown daddy … when he learned about that, he began fighting the posts in the barn with his wooden sword. Musketeers fought with swords, right? They fought with swords and muskets like above the fire place. The small family lived outside St. George (named after St. George, who slayed the dragon … appropriate for the descendent of a Musketeer, Mommy said one day after Miss Anne left. What Musketeers had to do with St. George, Justinian still wasn't entirely sure, but he would find out. Mommy said he was good at finding things out).

On this particular day, Justinian was playing with his sword once more in the barn (but only after he finished his chores. That was a condition of his wooden sword after Miss Anne gave it to him … he could only play with it after he finished the chores for the day, since it was just him and Mommy). Mommy had actually sent him out to play after she'd gotten a phone call. She'd looked worried, but pretended that she wasn't, and sent him into the barn. He'd been playing a while when a car pulled up.

Justinian stopped what he was doing and peered out the door. He didn't recognize the car, which meant it was time to play the game. As a tall, scary-looking man got out of the car, Justinian scampered over to the trap door, glancing over his shoulder as he did. Mommy told him that if a car he didn't recognize pulled into the driveway, he was to go into the basement and play hide and seek, and couldn't come out until Mommy and the new person found him. She even made a play room for him in the basement, because sometimes, it took new people a long time to find him. He raced down the steps, careful to pull the door shut over his head, and then plopped into his favorite bean bag chair … and waited.

He waited for a very long time, nearly an hour, and he was getting hungry. But he stayed put … he knew better than to leave his hiding place before Mommy came to find him. He'd only done that once, and found his mommy crying. Not just blinking back tears, trying not to cry, but crying hard, the way Justinian did when he was hurt really badly. She'd hugged him, but didn't make dinner that night (it didn't occur to him until much later, when he was an adult and a father himself, that she wasn't punishing him, but was in fact so badly rattled by whoever upset her that day that she hadn't thought to make dinner for either of them). No. He would stay here. With a worried look at the clock, Justinian picked up his wooden sword and began the movements that Miss Anne showed him when she gave him the sword.

Eventually, he became tired of that and picked up one of the books Mommy put down here for him, and tried to read for a while. Normally, Justinian loved reading, but right now, it was hard for him. He couldn't make his eyes stay on the words, and so he turned his attention next to his games. That stopped him from looking at the clock, at least a little.

But Mommy didn't come and didn't come, and Justinian was getting scared. When he looked next at the clock beside his bean bag chair, it said six pm. It said three pm when he first got here, which meant he'd been here for three hours. The game never lasted more than an hour, and he had to go to the bathroom really badly. Justinian hesitated, and then looked at the wooden sword that was resting beside him on the bean bag chair, and his little mouth firmed. The last time she was here, he heard Miss Anne tell Mommy that not only was Justinian's ancestor (daddy from a long time ago) a Musketeer, but so was Justinian's daddy, and he lived up to it.

That meant that Justinian had to be a Musketeer as well, and Musketeers didn't leave anyone behind. That was what Mommy said, when he asked her what ' _all for one and one for all meant_.' It meant that no one got left behind. And so, the frightened little boy gripped his wooden sword, before carefully making his way up the steps to the trap door. Remembering what Mommy said about what he should do in special egg-sten-u-ating circumstances, Justinian eased the trap door up and peered around. Seeing no one around, much less the tall, scary-looking man from earlier, Justinian climbed the rest of the stairs and then closed the trap door.

A quick glance outside told him that the strange car was gone, and Justinian got even more scared. If the car was gone, Mommy should have come to get him … and she hadn't. But he was already out of his hiding place, and Mommy might need him. So, he ran from the barn to the house. He wanted to call out for his mother, but his voice was stuck in his throat … and it stayed stuck when he found his mother lying in a pool of blood. It didn't become unstuck after his trembling fingers dialed 911 like Mommy taught him, but had to hang up when they answered because he couldn't speak. It didn't even become unstuck after a blonde lady who called herself 'Ninon' came with the police, to find Justinian on his knees beside the late Tamsyn Rhodes, clutching her cold fingers in one hand and his wooden sword in the other. He would not speak again until he reached San Antonio, Texas and the only mother he now had swept him into her arms and swore that no one would ever hurt him again.

14AA41

San Antonio, Texas

Same Day

"Gilles Rochefort is a fucking dead man, if I have to cut his heart out myself!"

The words, surprisingly enough, didn't come from Anne de Brueil … instead, they came from Anne Maurice, whose eyes were blazing as she listened to the report from Ninon de Larroque. In the three days since the attack against her brother and daughter, Josie learned a great deal … about the nephew she hadn't known even existed in Utah, as well as the niece in Quebec. And guided by an instinct she couldn't fully comprehend, she asked Ninon to make use of the (extremely long) layover she had in Las Vegas by checking on Tamsyn and Justinian Rhodes.

Not that she told Ninon at first that Justinian was Athos' son … that was for him to share. No, she just told her friend that she had reason to believe that Rochefort or one of his associates might attempt to harm the little boy and his mother. Of course, as soon as Ninon set eyes on the trembling little boy kneeling beside his mother's dead body, she knew exactly who his father was … and probably his mother as well. She immediately called the airline and let them know that she was now a witness in a murder case, and wouldn't be making her flight to San Antonio, and then briefed Josie about what she learned (after ranting at her for several minutes about not telling her that Athos had a son).

"Have I ever told you how hot it is when you talk dirty, querida?" Aramis asked, his attempt at levity failing miserably. Josie rolled her eyes and glanced over at Jean Treville with a ' _may I please smack him_?' look. Treville inclined his head and made a gesture with his hand which said quite eloquently, ' _by all means, be my guest_.' Josie smiled and swatted Aramis in the back of his head, drawing a yowl. Porthos smirked, though his dark eyes were worried, and Aramis rubbed the back of his head, all but sulking, "Well, it _is_."

"Not the time, 'Mis. Ninon, how's he doing?" Josie's favorite Musketeer aside from her younger brother asked. The little boy was currently a few yards behind Ninon, curled around a rather large German Shepherd, his face buried in its fur. Ninon glanced over her shoulder to check on the boy, and Porthos muttered, "Damn." Josie wasn't sure if that was a police dog or some other kind of service animal, but all during the call, her nephew (her nephew!) hadn't released the dog at all, an embrace that the animal allowed.

"That about sums it up," Ninon sighed, pushing a lock of blonde hair back from her eyes, before continuing, "As to killing Rochefort, mon ami, I think you'll need to get in line. I learned during the car ride to the Rhodes farm that Miss Tamsyn was quite well-liked among her neighbors. It was bad enough that she was murdered and that her not-quite-seven year old son found her … but people will put together just how brutal the murder was. Tamsyn went down fighting. The local LEO's are satisfied that Justinian didn't see anything, especially after they searched the barn and found his hiding place in the basement. And, since they've received written permission from both Athos and Milady, they're releasing him to my temporary custody, so we'll probably be there tomorrow. That's assuming I can pry him from Paladin."

Josie glanced at Justinian's birth mother, who hadn't said a word since they learned of Tamsyn Rhodes' death. She stood at Athos' side, clutching his hand. And her expression was best described as murderous. For the first time since meeting Anne, Josie was seeing a glimpse of Milady … and she began to understand a few things, not just about her sister-in-law, but about Anne's relationship with the Musketeers aside from Athos. She wasn't willing to deal with her feelings about Anne keeping the child from Athos … she resolutely put those feelings aside, telling herself that it was none of her business, and that Justinian was the important one now. Besides, Anne was still her friend, still her sister, and right now, she needed comfort as much as her son did. Josie exchanged a look with her brother, who looked furious and heart-sick, before glancing back at Anne, and then once more at Anne's husband. Athos arched an eyebrow … _what do you think_? She nodded very slightly, and Athos tugged on Anne's hand, pulling her into his lap. Anne went willingly, not noticing or paying no attention to the handles of the wheelchair as she curled around Athos, much like their son was curled around Paladin.

But again, it was Anne Maurice who said quietly, "Do what you can, Ninon. I have friends at a local shelter who would be overjoyed to provide a dog for Justinian." All eyes turned to the young CEO, and Anne shrugged a little, adding, "What? I don't believe Paladin is a service animal at all, but a therapy dog, which means that any dog who is well-behaved and gentle with children would be acceptable. I'll see if a German Shepherd is available, although a Belgian Malinois would work as well."

Ninon bobbed her head, and Josie reflected again that she hadn't thought she would ever be grateful for Richelieu signing her friend up for that HR conference in Portland. Now, she didn't think that she would ever stop being thankful for that little bit of asshattery from the previous year. She knew that eventually someone would have come, but it made her sick that Justinian had to be alone with his mother's dead body for even a little while. Anne Maurice was right. One way or another, regardless of who did it, Gilles Rochefort would die. Aramis said, "While you're en route, we'll start working on where he'll stay. Constance, how is the barracks coming at the Garrison?"

"I have just the room for him, Athos and Milady, and anyone else who wants to stay in there," Constance answered. Her arms were folded over her chest, and she was actually trembling. Whether in anger or fear, or something else, she wasn't sure. She also wasn't sure if it mattered, or even if Rochefort was the one responsible for the attack against her nephew. The odds were good that this was indeed the case, but Josie was more concerned about taking care of her family. She would leave vengeance to Anne. As if thinking the same thing, Constance added, "But so long as Rochefort remains alive, none of us will be safe … not Anne, not Justinian, not Tristan, none of us. What do we do about him?"

"Tommy and I have a plan in the works," Athos answered quietly as Anne's tremors began to ease, "we just have to find the right lure. I thought about luring him in using the reports of Maddox's death, but that won't work now. And yes, I do know that you're willing to be bait, Anne, but Rochefort will never simply believe that he can walk in and claim you. We need a lure." Josie glanced at her ex-husband, who sat across from her brother. He merely raised his eyebrows, and Josie rolled her eyes with exasperation. Athos, of course, noticed the silent communication and asked, "Audelais? What are you thinking?"

"We need a lure for Rochefort … Rob was just suggesting one. Anne, you've mentioned in the past that you want a stronger connection between law enforcement and the Musketeers. This is an opportunity for us, in many ways. We all know that Rochefort wants Rob dead … he also wants Anne for himself. The way we lure him in is to give him both. I know, Athos … that's what you and Tommy came up with. The original plan, to make him think that Rob was dead, and use his 'funeral' to lure him in got blown to hell. But we can still re-tool that plan. Maybe announce the creation of a new partnership between the Musketeers and law enforcement, spear-headed by the district attorney's office after the recent shooting. Rochefort wouldn't be able to pass up a lure like that," she answered. Now that they were no longer trying to reconcile, it was actually easier for her and Rob to talk. Maybe they wouldn't be friends, but they could still brainstorm … especially since their child's life was at stake. Now, her sister-in-law was sitting up, and Josie shuddered at her expression. What was she thinking?

She would never have the chance to find out, because it was then that Anne's cell phone began to ring, almost frantically. Josie returned her attention to Ninon, who had reached forward to end the call, but halted, as if sensing that there was more to come. Anne fumbled with her cell phone, before removing it from her blouse (okay … Josie used the boob pocket from time to time, but that was usually for keys) and answering it. Her eyes widened as she said, "Adele, slow down, I can hardly understand you! What? How is that even possible? Never mind, get there as soon as you can … just be careful. You'll do no one any good if you get yourself killed before you even reach the house."

She hung up and rose to her feet, still clutching Athos' hand, saying hollowly, "That was one of my … friends. Someone who I once helped and who helps me when she's able. She's been watching over Aimee and Sabine Chabot ever since I asked it of her. Something has happened, something that has Adele terrified, and she's on her way there. The time for talk is over. Rochefort will die, whether by my hand or someone else's, I don't care, but he will not be permitted to harm anyone else I love." She shifted her attention to Ninon, and said what was likely the first civil words to ever pass her lips for the blonde woman, "Thank you for saving my son … now please, bring him home." Ninon inclined her head, and the screen went dark. And now, all they could do was … pray. Athos' son was spared, though he would likely carry the scars for a very long time. Was it too much to ask that his daughter be spared as well?

04AA41

Quebec City, Quebec

Same Time

Adele Bessette hadn't really thought that Rochefort or his goons would go after Aimee Chabot. But Anne asked her to keep an eye on the other woman and her daughter. Besides, she knew that Aimee dated Aramis for a while after Adele's 'death,' and she was curious about the woman who took her place however briefly. And so, under the cover of a routine inspection, she set up surveillance … surveillance that paid off unexpectedly twenty minutes earlier.

By the grace of God, Adele was already in her car when she was notified that there was a break in at the Chabot home. She made two calls … one to Anne, to let her know that she was right to be concerned, and another to Richelieu. And as she raced to save the mother and daughter, she once more cursed Armand for his incredible stupidity. She could only hope that Anne's own son Justinian was all right, but if Rochefort could find Aimee and Sabine, when their names were far more common, then a little boy named 'Justinian' would be far easier to find. As the Chabot house came into sight, Adele took just enough time to throw the car into 'park' before racing inside … and coming face to face with a scene from a horror movie.

A man straddled a woman, a bloody knife raised high in the air as he growled out, "Not asking you again, cunt … where is the brat?" Adele withdrew her own dagger from her boot and began approaching the man from behind … unfortunately for her, a board squeaked under her foot, and Rochefort's proxy pivoted to face her. Well, damn … so much for the element of surprise! Adele's life was further complicated a second later as a baby's wail echoed through the house. The man's faced hardened, and he rose to his feet, heading in the direction of the cry. _Oh, no, you don't_!

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size, asshole?" Adele snarled as she sprang forward to intercept him, knife at the ready. She barely glanced at the fallen Aimee Chabot, but knew it was bad. Aimee was likely dying, but right now, Adele had to ensure the safety of the child, who was screaming her head off. Whether she was hungry, frightened, or just needed her diaper changed, Adele didn't know … she only knew that she had to make sure this piece of shit didn't get anywhere near her.

Before she met Aramis, and before she met Armand, Adele was one helluva soccer player. Anne took the skills that made her so good at soccer, and built upon them, teaching her to fight with her legs. It was good to know how to throw a punch, Anne told her on more than one occasion, but her strength was in her legs, and she needed to learn to use that strength. And that was what Adele was doing now, whirling and kicking out, shifting the balance of power as she slashed at her opponent with the knife. A moment of miscalculation cost her when Rochefort's goon back-handed her across the face, sending her into the wall. Aimee cried out weakly as Adele tried to shake off the dizziness, Sabine's crying growing ever louder. The goon smiled coldly, sauntering forward to finish her off. He never had the chance. A shot rang out, and the goon dropped like a rock at Adele's feet.

Armand Richelieu allowed the hand holding the pistol to drop and said from the doorway, "Quiet that infernal racket … I will see to the mother." Adele nodded, wincing at the pain in the left side of her face, and moved unsteadily toward the bedroom where the baby was crying helplessly. As she passed by Aimee, she saw the numerous stab wounds she'd sustained before Adele arrived, and knew she wasn't long for this world. Armand knelt beside her, saying in an unexpectedly tender voice, "We will see to your child."

Adele kept walking, various aches and pains making themselves known in her body. Already, she was wondering what she could have done to save both Aimee and her child. But her heart and mind were in agreement … aside from camping out at the house, twenty-four seven, there was nothing more she could have done. As she entered the room, she spotted a blanket fort … one like she'd created with her brothers and sisters when she was a child. Aimee couldn't have known that the goon was coming, so she must have left her daughter here when the break-in occurred. Dropping to her knees, Adele picked up the edge of the blanket and found an adorable baby girl with big blue eyes and long lashes whimpering. She didn't know babies, but this child was one of the most precious children she'd ever seen, even red-faced and teary-eyed.

She whispered, "Hello, little one … I'm Adele. Shh, let's get you out of there." She eased the little girl into her arms, snagging a blanket as she did so, which she wrapped around Sabine and would protect her from the sight of her mother. The exhausted child was all but limp in her arms, still whimpering on occasion. But her whimpers were softer and far less frequent as she slumped against Adele. How long was she there on her own while her mother was being murdered in the next room? Had she heard her mother's cries? Adele shuddered at the thought. As she re-entered the living room, she found Armand rising to his feet and crossing himself. She thought for a moment of pointing out what his quest for revenge did, but there was no point in it. He could see all of that quite well for himself. Instead, she observed quietly, "I'll take Sabine to my car. Do you want me to stick around until the police show up?"

Armand shook his head almost numbly, replying, "No … no, take the child to safety. I'll offer them a half truth, that Madame Chabot was tied to Bourbon Enterprises and her daughter is in the care of a friend. Remember to take the car seat with you. Are you going to Texas yourself?" Adele shrugged, because she really hadn't thought that far in advance. If she went to Texas, there was a good chance that Aramis would learn she was alive, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to face that. She loved Aramis and likely always would, but he moved on with his life, and would likely want to know why she never told him that she was alive.

On the other hand, if she went to Texas, she would be able to meet the woman who had captured Aramis' heart after Adele left his life so abruptly. That idea certainly had merit. Adele could offer her own shovel talk … namely by telling Anne Maurice that if she ever broke Aramis' heart, Adele would rip out hers. That could wait. Right now, she had to get back to her hotel and look after this poor child. And while she was doing that, she would call Anne to let her know that Aimee was dead, but Sabine was alive. In this game, you took your wins where you could find them. She didn't know if Rochefort intended for his goons to harm the children or just take them hostage, but either way, he failed. Now it was up to the Musketeers to finish him.

TBC

Additional Author's Notes: So, did Rochefort intend to kidnap the children, to use them as leverage against the Musketeers? More than likely, but those he sent ran into two determined mothers. I went to see _Warcraft_ this morning, which had many such sacrifices. I'm still working out how I feel about the movie, because it wasn't what I expected, and the human hero was far too reminiscent of Obi-Wan Kenobi. That isn't a slam against Obi-Wan, whom I adore, but Anduin Lothar's similarities to him overshadowed his actual personality. I'm hoping the new _Independence Day_ movie is better.


	16. Chapter 15: One Boy, One Girl

Author's Notes: Well, that was interesting … once more, as I sat in the sanctuary on Sunday morning, prior to the beginning of Mass, the characters started telling me how to start the current chapter. Maybe because I'm not fretting over it or obsessing, or maybe just because my mind is quiet. For some reason, once I have a start, it flows from there. I've also been pondering how to address the awful events in Orlando, Florida last weekend, and truly, I don't know what to say. It hit entirely too close to home, and in more ways than one. My childhood best friend lives near Orlando, and as she pointed out, her two children go to clubs … it could have easily been them caught in the middle of that. They weren't, and they are safe … but it could have been them. I've been to Orlando twice, and just three weeks ago, during Memorial Day weekend, MegaCon was held there. So all I have to say is this: hug someone you love and be glad you have them. I'll leave it there, because if I go any further, you'll hear a lot more than you really want to. So. Moving onto the chapter, we have Athos, Aramis, and Anne Maurice meeting Sabine at the gate (a little suspension of disbelief is required here, because there are certain rules for unaccompanied minors, which Sabine technically isn't, but Anne Maurice pulled some strings); Aramis getting a surprise; while Justinian is reunited with his birth mother. Chapter title comes from the Collin Raye song of the same name … and speaking of titles, I do believe I have a title for the Treville-centric story, ' _And Call It By That Name_.' More to come on that (but quick clue ... it _isn't_ lyrics from a song. It is, in fact, from a eighteenth century poem).

Chapter Fifteen

One Boy, One Girl

San Antonio International Airport

The following morning

In the beginning, when this entire mess started, she'd felt guilty … felt like somehow, this was her fault. Had she unconsciously led Rochefort on by being kind to him? Did she make him believe that she loved him, that she desired him? Had she somehow brought this down upon them all? So many had died because of Rochefort's obsession with her during their first encounter with him. And even in the second, people had been hurt because he refused to see that she didn't feel about him as he did for her. First it was Robert Maddox being shot only moments before he was to meet his wife for one of their reconciliation dates (although that was more because he had prosecuted Rochefort) … and then it was Tristan Maddox and Athos de la Fere being accosted while Tristan worked on her art project (which she had finished, though her heart wasn't in it. It needed to be done, and she needed the distraction, or so said her mother). And with each attack against the Musketeers and those they loved … those _she_ loved … Anne Maurice felt more and more anger, and less and less guilt.

And now came the most recent attack. Two women were dead … two mothers, who had died protecting their children, little ones who were also the children of Athos de la Fere. Both children were arriving today. And since both children were minors, they were permitted to meet them at the gate. It was decided that Anne de Brueil would meet her son (mostly) alone. That was her idea, since he was badly shaken by his mother's murder, and Anne was the only familiar face among them. Athos wanted desperately to meet his son, but acceded to Milady's wishes. He wanted to meet Justinian, yes … but the boy's well-being had to come first.

Instead, he, Aramis, and Anne were at the other gate, waiting for Milady's operative to emerge with Sabine. Aramis had a supportive hand resting on Athos' shoulder as the Musketeer lieutenant sat in the wheelchair that his sister flat-out demanded that he used. Athos had reminded her that he was shot in the shoulder, not the leg, but Joselais retorted that he was still recovering from the blood loss and was still prone to dizzy spells. He didn't want to have one of those while holding Sabine, did he? Athos gave up at that point, and Anne glanced at Joselais, half-stunned and half-impressed. She'd never guessed that the petite woman who was normally so soft-spoken could be such a bully, but she couldn't argue with the results.

Joselais was on the other side of the airport, waiting with Milady, who was prowling up and down along the concourse like a cat stalking her prey. No doubt, she was making several people very nervous, but that was why Joselais was there … to keep Milady somewhat calm and keep other people from getting (more) nervous. Anne made arrangements with both the San Antonio police department and the airlines, since Justinian wasn't technically an unaccompanied minor … but he was a traumatized little boy who would need his mum. Even if Justinian didn't know that Milady was his mother, she was someone familiar. She was aided by Ninon, who was working with both the St. George Police Department and the FBI office in Salt Lake City.

And if Milady was prowling along the concourse, then Athos was shifting nervously in his wheelchair, hands twisting the handkerchief Joselais stuffed in his shirt pocket for Sabine. He was nervous and afraid, fearful that he wouldn't be a good father, that he wasn't a good father. Constance, d'Artagnan, Porthos and Treville remained in the baggage claim, but before the six of them had gone through security with their gate passes, d'Artagnan had knelt before his older brother in his wheelchair and took his hands, murmuring, ' _you already are a good father. Look at how you've taken care of me. Justinian and Sabine are so lucky to have you as a father … and they'll have Anne, Joselais and Constance as their aunts, with Porthos, Aramis, Tommy, Louis and me as their uncles, and the captain as their grandfather. Who could ask for a better family_?'

Admittedly, Captain Treville looked a bit at sea about being a surrogate grandfather, but he also looked proud and happy, and Anne heard Porthos and Aramis bickering about how much they would spoil their new niece and nephew. Meanwhile, d'Artagnan was talking about his and Constance's unborn child growing up with Athos' children, especially with Sabine. But they had to take out Rochefort first, and every plan devised so far had a fatal flaw of some kind.

Anne's attention was drawn back to her Musketeers as Athos inhaled sharply. The door to the gate was opening … and the first person through the portal was a young woman, slightly older than Anne herself, with a sleeping baby in her arms. Athos was leaning forward, injured shoulder immobilized and his arm cradled against his chest. It had to hurt, but if it did, Athos wasn't feeling any pain at that moment. His eyes were solely on the child in the woman's arms, and he breathed, "Sabine. Oh, my princess."

Anne swallowed hard, hearing this much sentiment from the usually taciturn lieutenant. She looked up at Aramis, to see his reaction to this show of emotion from his brother Musketeer … only to discover that his eyes were locked not on his brother, nor on the child, but on the woman carrying the child toward them, her eyes steady on Athos. He … he looked as though he had seen a ghost. Anne wasn't sure what to do … did she try to get his attention? But then, Aramis choked out, "Adele? But … it can't be!"

Adele? Anne wracked her brain, trying to figure out why that name sounded so damn familiar. And the woman named 'Adele' stopped briefly, her eyes shifting from Athos to Aramis … but then she returned her attention to Athos as she stopped in front of him and knelt, easing the child into his arms, saying, "Hello, Lt. de la Fere … I think your daughter will be very happy to be back in her father's arms." Athos reflexively closed his good arm around his daughter protectively, and the baby looked up at him with eyes clearly inherited from her father. A delighted smile crossed her face, and Anne couldn't be sure if it was because she recognized Athos … or simply understood that this man would lay down his very life to protect her. With Sabine safely delivered to her father, the woman named 'Adele' returned her attention once more to Aramis with a sad smile, saying, "Hello, Aramis. It's been a long time."

14AA41

He always thought it was an exaggeration when someone said that they 'saw red' or 'heard blood roaring' in their ears. Aramis wasn't entirely sure what he was hearing, if it was blood roaring in his ears or maybe his heartbeat grown overly-loud. Adele. Adele was here, standing in front of him and slowly straightening after placing Athos' daughter in his arms … Adele was here, and she was alive, and she was _beautiful_. She smiled at him gently, sadly, saying, "Not quite how I imagined seeing you again. You look good, Aramis. I can see that your brothers have been taking care of you."

It was rare that he was unable to think of something to say … he had a reputation for being charming, a reputation that was well deserved if he did say so himself. But Adele … he finally managed to force out, "Where … what …?" _Oh, very well done_ , he thought angrily, _you're making a great deal of sense_! And Athos, who was generally very good about keeping all of them on point, was wrapped up in his daughter. Not that Aramis could really blame him … his brother was struggling to find his footing with the recent revelations.

And, Adele seemed to understand what he was asking, because she said softly, "I'm only alive because of Anne … because of Milady. She was tasked with killing me, and instead, she gave me my life. Oh, I got one helluva headache out of it, but between a headache and dying, there's no choice to be made. I've been helping her in any way I can since then." She didn't say who had given Milady that particular assignment … she didn't have to. She paused, eyes sweeping over him from head to toe, and said again, smiling a bit sadly, "You look good. You look really good. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I was alive, but I couldn't run the risk of Armand learning until I was ready for him to know … and it wasn't just my life at risk, but Anne's as well."

Yes, he could see that. It would seem that Aramis had two reasons to be grateful to Milady now … she saved his life, and saved Adele. Both times, she risked herself. Athos said softly, speaking for the first time since Sabine was placed in his arms, "He knows now … was he involved in the rescue?" It was a statement, rather than a question … at least the first part, and Aramis had to wonder how he came up with the second part. Why would his brother ask that? Why would Richelieu assist in the rescue of Sabine, or anyone else associated with them? Athos raised his eyes from his daughter's animated face, and Adele nodded. Athos asked, "Are you still in danger?" An icy hand slipped around Aramis' heart at his brother's question, and Adele merely offered a small shrug. Athos added, actually sounding reproachful, "That is no kind of answer. You risked your life to save my daughter, I'll not repay that by leaving you twisting in the wind." Adele's face softened and she ran her hand lightly over Sabine's dark hair.

"Believe me, Athos, it was my pleasure … I could have never lived with myself if I'd left this precious little one in danger. I don't know what that plonker has in store and I'm not sure I want to know. Am I in danger from Armand? Probably. But once I finish this job, once Rochefort is no longer a threat to Anne Maurice and the Musketeers, I'll vanish again. Probably quite dramatically … only to reappear when you need me most. I'll be fine … I promise. Now. Is there any chance we could meet up with Anne? Actually, before we do that, can we get something to eat? I didn't get much of a chance to eat on the plane … the altitude hurt the poor baby's ears, and I kept my hands over them through most of the trip," she replied.

"Of course … she's with my sister, and Audelais is good at keeping her calm. It's actually a bit frightening, just how good she is at it, really. I keep asking Aude for stories about Anne when they first started working together at Gennesaret, but she just laughs and responds that those stories are Anne's to tell, not hers," Athos replied, shifting Sabine in his lap until he could reach the wheels of his chair. That forced Aramis to snap out of his shock … he swatted his brother's hand away from the wheels and grasped the handles in the back, wheeling him toward the gate where his wife was pacing while his sister looked on.

"From what Anne has told me about your sister, that doesn't surprise me. However, I can share a few stories that Anne told me," Adele offered, falling into step beside Athos, placing her close to Sabine. His Ana fell in on the other side, shielding both Athos and Aramis with her own body. She was willing to risk her life to finish Rochefort, and Aramis loved her for it (and a thousand other reasons), but none of the plans provided her enough protection. Aramis was a soldier and a Musketeer, and he would die if need be … but Ana was a civilian. She lacked his training. No. No, another way had to be found.

He listened with half an ear as Adele spun an amusing story about Milady, Audelais, and the former store room at Gennesaret. It seemed that the door had a habit of sticking, and while Audelais propped the door open, the door stop was kicked out of place, trapping the two women inside. Athos winced, observing that his sister had been claustrophobic as long as he could remember. Adele agreed merrily, but observed that while Audelais was claustrophobic, she didn't attack the door every five minutes, screaming like a banshee. Athos glanced up at Adele, who snickered, ' _Anne was_ _ **not**_ _happy. When she found out that one of the teenage volunteers had done it as a prank … well. I'm sure you can imagine she made his life hell in every way imaginable, so much so that it took both your sister and Father Callaghan to get her to back off. I still laugh, though, when I think about Anne kicking the door and screaming, and your sister being calm, even while she was hyperventilating_.'

Okay, on the face of it, it wasn't funny … but it was, at the same time. Joselais was still claustrophobic, and imagining her staying calm, while Milady completely lost it made him smile. He had to wonder if Milady was more worried about something inside the store room, or being locked in the aforementioned store room with a claustrophobic woman. He would have to ask her about that. Like Athos, he was more or less immune to her glare (although, the reason why he was immune to her glare was because he had known for Athos for so many years).

"I just hope she isn't terrifying the airport personnel," Ana sighed, "she can be rather … intense." Yes … yes, she could. But then, she was married to Athos, and if there was one thing Aramis had learned about his beloved brother, it was that he could never love a shrinking violet. Any more than he could. Guiltily, he glanced at Ana, still walking briskly beside him. She'd made not a sound as he reunited with Adele (ignoring her all the while), and as he looked at her now, she offered him a gentle smile. Adele was here only for a time, and then she would disappear again. That was the way it had to be, and what was between them … it was in the past. She moved on (as she would again), and so had he. It was time to let her go, once and for all.

Adele was his past. If it was part of God's plan for him, Ana would be his future.

14AA41

One, two, three, four, five, six … one, two, three, four, five, six.

"It wouldn't do any good for me to ask her not to pace … so I just ignore her and text my brother," Josie observed to someone as Anne stalked past her once again. Anne glowered at her sister-in-law, who merely raised an eyebrow at her. Anne muttered several particularly unpleasant Russian curses under her breath, and Josie's eyebrow arched further. She added, "You do realize that the same woman who taught you to swear in Russian also taught me? In fact, I'm pretty sure that Vasilisa taught me a few things she didn't teach you." Anne turned to face her companion, her glower ratcheting up a few notches, but Josie remained unimpressed. Of course she did.

Amazingly, her sister-in-law smiled at her gently, saying softly, "I won't tell you not to worry. I know that you won't be able to relax until Justinian is safe in your arms, and probably not even then." No, not even then … because Justinian was still in danger. Not for the first time, Anne railed against herself for joining forces with Rochefort especially now that he was a threat to her child. But that wasn't the only thing … from this day forward, she would have to be Justinian's mother, and Anne had no idea how to be a mother.

She looked at Josie, asking, "What if I get it wrong?" She hated that she sounded so lost, but this was something she was thoroughly unprepared for. That was one reason she'd given up Justinian in the first place. That, and she was worried sick that she would go all Widow on the Web … hurt her little boy because of his father's sins. She was even more unprepared for Josie's eyes to soften, and for the older woman to rise to her feet and take her hands. Her sister-in-law's fingers wrapping around her own threaten to undo her completely.

"You will. I won't sugarcoat it, Anne. There will be times when you will fail so spectacularly, you'll wonder how your child is still alive. There will be times when you will feel like nothing you do is right. But you'll tough it out, fake it 'til you make it, whatever euphemism you want to use … but you don't give up. And you won't be alone," Josie promised. Anne was torn between annoyance that Josie didn't sugarcoat things for her … and gratitude that she didn't. No, she had told Anne what she needed to know, rather than what she wanted to hear.

"Promise?" she heard herself asking, and could have died from sheer humiliation. She was actually begging for support that was already processed. She was Milady, and Milady didn't beg (but Anne did). She hadn't thought it possible for Josie's face to soften any more than it already had … but she was wrong. In fact, her sister-in-law pulled her into a fierce embrace, and Anne clung to her, burying her face in her hair. It wasn't the first hug she'd ever gotten from Josie … but it was the first one she'd needed so badly.

"I swear to you on Tristan's life … I won't let you go through this alone. No one else will. I don't know how much help I'll be … I did a lot of fumbling in the dark after Tristan was born, and I probably would have made even more mistakes if it wasn't for Rob's mother. But I won't let you go through this alone, and neither will Athos. You're part of our family now, remember?" Josie answered softly, and Anne tightened her arms around her sister-in-law. There were so many things she wanted, needed to say.

But it was then that the door leading from the plane opened and the first weary travelers began emerging. Anne had just enough time to release Josie and swipe at her cheeks before Ninon de Larroque strode out of the tunnel, long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and cradling Justinian protectively against her chest. She nodded to them both, offering Josie a small smile as she approached. She bowed her head, murmuring something to Justinian. Her little boy raised his head from Ninon's shoulder and focused bleary blue eyes on her. At her side, she was vaguely aware of Josie gasping, "Oh my God … he's Athos all over again!"

Justinian stared at her, as if he couldn't really believe that she was there … and then he was lunging out of Ninon's arms, wailing, "Miss Anne! She's dead … Mommy's dead!" Anne caught her son easily, folding him into an embrace every bit as fierce as the one she'd received from Justinian's aunt. Her baby boy was sobbing into her neck and Anne blinked back tears of her own, grieving once more for a woman who should have lived much longer, should have seen her grandchildren and maybe even great-grandchildren … a woman who had begun to teach her what it meant to have a friend, a sister.

"I know … I know, sweet boy, and I'm so sorry. I'm going to take care of you now, and the man who killed your mother is going to be very, very sorry by the time I finish with him," Anne swore. Justinian just clung to her like a limpet, and Anne caught sight of Josie as she hugged Ninon. The other woman just smiled at her, mouthing, 'you're doing fine.' She would take Josie's word for it. Anne still felt incredibly lost, but right now, Justinian was depending on her, and she couldn't bear to fail him already.

It was then that her son surprised her, by mumbling against her skin, "I know you're my other mommy, Miss Anne." Anne froze … what? Over Justinian's head, she took note of Josie's reaction, her eyes widening in surprise. Justinian pulled back, blocking her view of his aunt, and said very simply, "I know you're my other mommy. But you're still Miss Anne. Okay?"

Anne was so stunned, she didn't know how to react. Her son knew that she was his mother. She was fairly certain that Tamsyn hadn't told him, as they had agreed that Tamsyn would talk to her first, which meant … had he figured it out on his own? Looking into her son's blue eyes, she realized that was indeed the case. Her son figured out, on his own, that she was his mother, and not just a lady who enjoyed spoiling him. She began to smile, the first real smile she'd worn since hearing of Tamsyn's death the previous day, and murmured, "My clever little man! Your father is going to absolutely adore you."

Justinian's eyes widened almost comically, and he all but gasped, "My daddy is here? You really think he'll like me?" Anne's heart broke at her son's question. She couldn't tell him that his father was here, and that he already loved him. That was for Athos to do … or better, let Justinian see the love in his father's eyes. But there was one other family member he needed to meet. Oh, she knew that Athos should be the first to meet Justinian, since he was the little one's father, but Athos wasn't here yet. Josie, on the other hand, was.

"Your father loves you already. He'll be here in just a few minutes, along with your little sister and one of your uncles," Anne promised. She thought about Aramis and Porthos, in particular, spoiling both Justinian and Sabine, and nearly groaned aloud. She'd witnessed some of their antics over the course of the last day as they finished getting the room at the garrison ready, and the idea of those two helping to raise her Justinian both terrified and delighted her. She thought of the little street urchin she'd been when only a little older than Justinian, and wondered what she would have become if she'd had an Aramis and a Porthos back then.

It didn't matter. Those two idiots were her son's uncles, and as exasperating as she found them, she also knew that they would sacrifice everything to save her boy. Just as the woman standing a few yards away would. Anne carried Justinian until he could reach out and touch his aunt if he wanted to, saying softly, "Justinian, this is your aunt, Audelais Josephine de la Fere." It was the first time she'd ever used Josie's birth name, and the first time she'd not used Josie's married name. Josie's brow arched, but then she turned her attention to her nephew with a small smile.

"Aw-de-lay? You have a funny name like me. And 'Josephine' kinda sounds like 'Justinian' as well," Justinian observed and Josie's smile brightened. Justinian continued, listing into Anne's chest wearily, "What do I call you? Aunt Aw-de-lay sounds funny. So does Miss Aw-de-lay." Well, she certainly couldn't argue with him about that. The way Josie's lips were quirking told her that his auntie wasn't about to argue with him, either. Then again, she never really liked her name anyhow. For the first time, it occurred to Anne that the two de la Fere children who went by their middle names … were from the actual blood line of Olivier d'Athos. Interesting. And something she would consider later.

"You can call me 'Aunt Josie,' honey. And you know, Miss Anne is right … your father is going to utterly adore you. In fact, that's why he's on the other side of the airport. Not just because your little sister is arriving today, but because he didn't want you to feel … because he knew that you would need Miss Anne more than you'd need him," Josie replied. She'd been about to say, 'didn't want you to feel overwhelmed,' Anne realized, but right now, she wanted to be careful with the child. While he seemed fine right now, he'd just lost his mother. And Anne was familiar enough with grief to realize that the process was on-going.

She also noticed that while Josie had moved a few steps closer, she'd made no attempt to touch Justinian. She was leaving it up to him, Anne realized, and loved her sister-in-law all the more fiercely for that realization. After the turmoil, upheaval and revelations of the last few days, Josie was letting Justinian set the terms for their interaction. Justinian's aunt smiled at him, saying, "I've been texting your daddy … he'll be here in just a few minutes, with your baby sister and your uncles. You have a lot of uncles now, Justinian, and a few aunts … and you have a cousin, my daughter Tristan. You'll be meeting them over the next few days."

"But first, my daddy?" Justinian asked hopefully, nearly breaking Anne's heart. Athos told her that she'd done the right thing, that he could have been no kind of father once their marriage ended and he left Pinon Deux. Anne knew he was right. But in protecting their son from the sins of both parents, she'd also hurt Justinian. He had needed his father … needed to know at least something about him. Anne wasn't an idealistic, she didn't think that having Justinian in his life would have halted Athos' downward spiral … but she should have told him something about his father, especially once the rift between them began to heal.

"But first your daddy and your sister. You'll meet your Uncle Aramis, too. Your daddy was hurt a few days ago and he's in a wheelchair, but he'll be all right. Are you ready to meet him?" Josie asked quietly. Justinian nodded so hard, Anne was afraid his head would come off his shoulders. Josie bent her head and tapped on her cell phone. When she was finished, she looked up and said, "Your daddy and Uncle Aramis are on their way. And he's looking forward to meeting you." It seemed that he was … Josie had barely finished speaking when the wheelchair carrying her husband and his daughter … her step-daughter, Anne realized with a shock … came into sight. Josie stepped back as her younger brother approached. That was when Anne made the second realization. Josie was going to leave this to her.

Anne sank to her knees as the wheelchair drew closer, still holding Justinian tightly. This would not only allow her boy to approach his father on his own terms, but for her to get a good look at the child who had the same name as one of her aliases … the child who would be her daughter from this day forward. As Aramis came to a stop, her eyes met Athos,' and Anne thought her heart would burst at her husband's expression … the love she saw in his eyes when he looked not just at Justinian, but at her. That love gave her the courage she needed to say, "Justinian … this is your daddy, Athos de la Fere. Athos … this is your son."

They had to figure out what to do about his last name. She would not demean Tamsyn or her love for Justinian by demanding the boy give up her last name. But that could wait for another day. For now, she released Justinian, allowing him to stand on his own two feet. Justinian looked at Athos, still looking up, for all that Athos was in a wheelchair … but not quite so far. He asked, almost tentatively, "Daddy?" There was a long moment of silence, and Anne feared (perhaps irrationally) that Athos would reject him. And then, Athos smiled … one of his rare, true smiles, smiles that Anne saw so often while they were married.

"Justinian … my little one," he whispered. And even before Athos reached out for him, Justinian was all but tripping over his own feet, reaching out for his father. They met halfway, Athos pulling Justinian up into his lap with his one good arm, so that both of his children were seated in his lap. Athos kissed the top of Justinian's head as the little boy scrambled and turned and wrapped his arms around his father's neck, all but chanting, 'daddy, daddy, daddy' over and over again. Something in Anne's chest shifted, and she found it easier to breathe.

Her family was back together, her family was complete. Her son was in his father's arms, and now she had a daughter as well, a daughter she even now knew she would love no less than she did Justinian. She and Athos were slowly but carefully picking their way back to each other through the minefield of their past. Justinian and Sabine would grow to adulthood nurtured by their aunt Josie, protected by their uncles Aramis, Porthos, and d'Artagnan, in cahoots with their cousin Tristan, and watched over by their grandfather Jean Treville. This amazing, oddball family, of which Anne was a part.

Against such a force … what chance did Rochefort truly have? Oh, they might not have a workable plan yet, but they would find one now. To protect these two precious children, who had already suffered so much because of Rochefort's unholy obsession with a woman who was kind to nearly everyone, they would ensure that Rochefort never again hurt a living soul, innocent or guilty. She swore it.

TBC

Additional Author's Notes: Yes, you may infer from that last paragraph that I have the glimmers of what Rochefort's ultimate fate will be. I just have to set it up.


	17. Chapter 16: Nasty Little Fellows

Author's Notes: OKAY! Your patience is about to pay off … next chapter, Rochefort goes down. Yes, I finally have a workable plan … like the boys, I was over-thinking it. I let Anne Maurice take charge, and voila! That doesn't mean there won't be heroics from the boys … I just agreed to let Ana be a bad-ass. After what Rochefort put her through, it was only fair. But for now, let's check in with Team Musketeers. In this chapter, we have a conversation between Tristan and Treville while they wait in the baggage claim; d'Artagnan reflects about his brothers and on becoming a father; while a little birdie hears something very important … and very dangerous … at Bourbon Enterprise San Antonio HQ.

Reviewer Responses:

A reader: Heh … yeah, all of my boys 'attend' Mass with me. Sometimes, they even come to work with me. They definitely travel with me, which makes things interesting when I'm in an airport and Athos (or Porthos) points something out to me. I have a feeling that what's going to make Athos so much fun as a daddy is how awkward he is. He is out of his depth, just as much as Anne is, but he's not stupid. None of them are, and really, I think any of the four boys would be awesome daddies.

Chapter Sixteen

Nasty Little Fellows

Baggage Claim Area

San Antonio International Airport

San Antonio, TX

Same Day

While a man as dear to him as a son met his own children, Jean Treville was puzzling out plans to protect his family. Item … so long as Giles Rochefort drew breath, no one in his extended family was safe. Item … the aforementioned Rochefort was responsible for the deaths of two women, injuries done to Treville's lieutenant, and the traumatizing of Athos' niece and two children just in their most recent encounter with the bastard. Item … until Rochefort was eliminated, none of them could move forward. They knew he wanted Anne Maurice for himself and Robert Maddox dead. The question was, how did they lure the bastard into a trap using either of those lures, without sacrificing the two civilians in the process? More to the point, how did they do it without making their quarry suspicious?

Those were the questions that haunted Treville as he listened to the light-hearted bickering between Porthos and d'Artagnan, with Constance throwing in barbs directed both at her 'brother' and her husband ever so often. Tristan Maddox sat beside Constance, trying very hard not to giggle (and failing miserably) and taking Porthos' side against d'Artagnan (of course). His cell vibrated in his pocket, alerting him to an incoming text, and he smiled at the brief message from Audelais de la Fere. ' _Sabine and Justinian with their daddy, all heading back now_.'

He cleared his throat, drawing the attention of his two boys, and said, "I just heard from Joselais. The flights arrived safely with their precious cargo, and the children are with Athos now. They're on their way here." Tristan actually squealed, jumping to her feet and clapping her hands with delight, before throwing her arms around Constance in excitement. Tristan took the news of her two cousins with joy, especially since she was the eldest cousin out of the three of them. Constance laughed, returning the embrace and kissing the top of the girl's head, before scurrying off in the general direction of the ladies' room.

Treville was distracted from his concern for his surrogate daughter by the sight of Porthos picking d'Artagnan up in a bear hug and spinning him around as if he was Tristan's size … and age, much to the younger man's consternation, and Tristan giggled again, leaning into Treville. He wrapped his arm around the girl's shoulders as she said, "Mom told Constance that she would have to go to the bathroom a lot as her pregnancy advances … I don't think Constance was expecting it this soon. Uncle Jean, what are you going to be to Justinian and Sabine? I know Porthos, Aramis, and d'Artagnan are their uncles, and Constance and Miss Ana are going to be their aunts, but what about you?"

That was what he was thinking about as they drove to the airport today, and he admitted, "I'm not old enough to be your uncle's father … or your mother's, come to that … but the truth is, I do see your Uncle Athos as a son. Or a much younger brother … and there are men my age who have grandchildren, so most likely, I will be a grandfather figure not just to d'Artagnan and Constance's unborn child, but to Justinian and Sabine as well." He didn't add that how much enjoyed it when Tristan called him, 'Uncle Jean.' That wasn't the point.

"Yeah, you definitely aren't old enough to be my mom's dad … and that would be kinda weird, anyhow, since you like her. What? I'm _twelve_ , Uncle Jean, I'm not stupid … I see the way you look at my mom sometimes. Usually, when she's watching Uncle Athos and Milady Anne," Tristan observed as the bickering between d'Artagnan and Porthos devolved. Porthos currently had d'Artagnan in a headlock, smiling brightly all the while. The security guards in this part of the airport were eyeballing them, but more with amused exasperation than any real concern. Which was good, because Treville was still trying to come to terms with what Tristan just said. Much to his chagrin, he felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Finally, he managed to force out, "Is there anyone in the Garrison … in the damn company … who doesn't realize I find your mother … attractive?" Tristan took his blustering question seriously, tilting her head to one side as she gave it serious consideration … and then shook her head, her long dark hair whipping at her cheeks. Treville sighed with no small amount of exasperation, before asking, "And is there anything about this you'd like to address?" Constance was on her way back from the ladies room, he noted, and judging by the slightly greenish tinge to her skin, he had a feeling she was suffering from morning sickness during the afternoon.

"Just … be good to her. Okay? A few years ago, she and Dad tried to reconcile, but he screwed things up and slept with Milady Anne. Yes, I know about that … Milady Anne told me once that I learned more by listening. I guess she didn't think I'd pay attention to her. Anyhow, I got mad at Mom for it, and I shouldn't have," Tristan admitted. Yes, Treville heard about that … and as Porthos said at the time, Tristan was rapidly becoming a young lady. No, she wasn't an adult, but she was starting to see a little more of the real world. And after nearly losing both parents to monsters in human form, Tristan was understandably protective of them both.

"It may not lead to anything at all. You should realize that. Your mother might not be ready for a relationship, so soon after the ending of her attempt to reconcile with your father. More than that, she may not … view me in such a way," Treville observed delicately, carefully biting back a smile as Constance rejoined them, smacking the back of Porthos' head and her husband's arse. Tristan rolled her eyes, although he wasn't sure if that was because of what he just said, or because d'Artagnan yelped at his wife's smack. It was an equal bet, either way. Of course, Tristan's next words had him nearly swallowing his tongue in shock.

The girl shrugged, saying, "Why wouldn't she? You're nice-looking, and you've taken good care of Uncle Athos … something my mom really appreciates. I do, too. It's not easy to take care of him. I know we have to wait until Rochefort gets put down … but after that. Ask her out for coffee. I bet she'll accept." How … was this even his life? The twelve year old niece of his lieutenant was literally giving him advice about courting her mother. And then, Tristan blew his mind by adding, "Because, the guy who didn't let Aramis change the channel from _Despicable Me_ to something else, because I'd never seen it? Totally someone I'd want as my stepfather."

Treville wondered briefly if pointing out to her that he'd never seen the movie and was curious about the mischievous Minions would make a difference, but decided that it probably wouldn't. And he didn't have the chance to say anything else, as Tristan added sadly, "But making sure Rochefort doesn't have a chance to hurt Tinian and Sabine again, or Uncle Athos … that's gotta come first. And then, we'll find a way to get you and Mom together." Treville wondered, somewhat dazed, how it was that even a twelve year old girl saw something he'd tried so very hard to ignore at first, and then deny.

Never mind. He would work that out later. And even though he knew that in real life, things didn't work out that way … his soft spot was getting the better of him. Again. Dammit. As the elevator carrying the sons of his heart descended to the ground level, Treville looked at Tristan with a small smile, asking softly, "What is it that Evy always says?" He was stunned to learn that Athos loved the _Mummy_ movies (at least, the first and second … he denied the existence of the third) … a love that his sister and niece shared. Tristan beamed up at him, eyes dancing with laughter and mischief.

"You know, nasty little fellows like that always get their comeuppance," Tristan parroted as she quoted one of her favorite parts of the first _Mummy_ movie. Treville mouthed, ' _they do_?' He rounded his eyes, provoking a fit of giggles from the young girl, who added, "Oh yes … **always**!" Yes, this was definitely his life now … not just playing straight man to his Inseparables, but to a twelve year old girl who seemed to have absolutely no issue with him courting her mother. And much to his astonishment … he had no problem with that whatsoever.

14AA41

On the drive over, Aramis teased him about being jealous of the 'new baby.' Not Justinian and Sabine, who actually _were_ babies, but Tristan. He snorted at that, pointing out that Tristan was hardly new to the family … she and her mother were drawn into the Musketeer family months ago. However, it did get to d'Artagnan thinking … he wasn't jealous of Tristan, not even in the beginning when he mock-grumbled about Athos teasing her where he would have drilled d'Artagnan. It wasn't just that he was an adult, and she was a child. It was … he was glad. But it was Constance who finally pointed it out to him while Porthos was dancing Tristan around, her feet atop his boots.

He accepted Athos' niece, just as easily as Aramis and Porthos accepted his entrance into their lives and Athos' heart. It still sometimes took his breath away when he thought about it, especially when he remembered the angry boy he was. He came to the Musketeers, to the Inseparables, fully intending to kill one of their brothers under the mistaken idea that he killed his father. ' _I don't want to kill you over a mistake_ ,' Athos told him. Instead, Athos would have died if they hadn't worked out that Gaudet was killing homeless people in Montreal and using Athos' name. And true to form, once his eldest brother was released from holding, Athos began making arrangements for Gaudet's other victims to receive a proper burial and attended all of the funerals.

If d'Artagnan wasn't already convinced by Aramis and Porthos that Athos was a truly good person, that would have done it. He blamed himself for the deaths of those people, for the attacks against innocents, but the ones actually to blame were Gaudet, Richelieu … and Milady. She said once that she knew he hadn't forgiven her for what she'd done to Constance, and that was true … but in truth, he still hadn't forgiven her for her part in his father's murder. Something he'd reminded her of recently, and was vaguely ashamed at her reaction. She'd blanched when he told her of his father's last moments … his father was a good man, and his life was ended just so she could ruin her ex-husband.

He could live with the knowledge that Porthos and Aramis accepted her, if not forgave her. But it would be a long time before he forgave her, and it would be even longer before he could allow himself to trust her. And not even Aramis' disapproving look when he mentioned that fact to his older brother would change that. Forgiving Milady would be a long time coming, something he stressed to her during that encounter. He'd added before he left her sister-in-law's office at the main Bourbon headquarters that if she ever hurt Athos again, she wouldn't have to worry about what Joselais did to her … because she would never see him coming.

Would he hold her crimes against her son, even if he wasn't also Athos' child? Never … Justinian was an innocent little boy, and d'Artagnan knew that he would love him as fiercely as he did Athos. Constance was already making noise about asking to babysit both Justinian and Sabine, so she had an idea of what to look forward to once their baby was here. As d'Artagnan turned to face the descending elevator that carried his oldest brother and newly-discovered niece and nephew, it occurred to him, once again, than in another seven months, he and Constance would be parents. They would be parents, they would be responsible for the care and growth of a tiny human being, who would be relying utterly on him.

He had thought that he was scared so many times in the past. This, however … this was pure terror. When he allowed himself to stop and think about what lay in his future, he could just about quake with terror. It was a small comfort to know that Athos was experiencing the exact same terror at the moment. Justinian was nearly seven, and Sabine was closing in on eighteen months, but Athos was starting from scratch with both of them, and was utterly terrified of getting things.

But right now, his brother didn't look terrified … he looked happy. Bemused, but happy, as Sabine listed sleepily against his chest, and Justinian looked around from his position in his father's lap. Athos would be a magnificent father, d'Artagnan knew … just look at the way he took care of the Musketeers, Anne Maurice, Louis Roy, and Constance. And whatever he didn't know, he and d'Artagnan would learn together. That what brothers did, after all.

14AA41

Bourbon Headquarters

San Antonio, TX

Same Time

In some ways, it was actually embarrassing … how easy it was for him to get into the building, even as a janitor. True enough, security had gotten better since Louis Roy stopped playing at being a CEO, but it was still entirely too easy to gain access. He had to hand it to the Musketeers, as annoying as he found them. They provided him with one helluva challenge when it came to accessing their original Garrison. His disguise at the junior high had proven to be largely successful … while he was ultimately unsuccessful at taking Tristan Maddox hostage or in removing Athos de la Fere from the picture permanently, the uncle and niece were just bait. His ultimate prizes were Anne's hand, and the lives of Aramis d'Herblay and Robert Maddox.

As Gilles Rochefort continued to play at mopping the floor on the ground level of the Bourbon headquarters, he spared very little thought the lives his colleagues had ended … indeed, he spared very little thought to the lives of his late colleagues. Tamsyn Rhodes and Aimee Chabot were merely a means to an end, a way to distract the Musketeers as he drew ever closer to his goal. The two women didn't even register as human beings for him. Nor did their children. That being said, he was glad that his colleagues never had a chance to hurt the brats. Anne would have been furious with him if they'd been hurt.

Two women approached him and the nearby water fountain, talking animatedly about Ninon de Larroque's return with Justinian Rhodes. Rochefort rolled his eyes, on the point of tuning them out, when one of the women observed as the pair stopped at the water fountain, "You know, I really hope Ms. Maurice goes ahead with her plan to invite the district attorney here. I like the idea of Bourbon's good deeds being more visible. That coupled with eye candy like Rob Maddox? Mee-ow!" Rochefort froze, because there was _no_ way that such an opportunity was simply falling into his lap like this.

He forgot to breath when the other woman answered, "Oh, she's already issued the invitation to him. I'm not sure if he's accepted or not, but she's issued the invitation for this Friday. She wanted to do it earlier, but with Ninon coming back, and the whole mess she brings with her … don't look at me like that, you know when Anne de Brueil gets involved, things get messy. I sometimes think the only reason she hasn't been fired is because she's friends with the director of Human Relations, and Athos de la Fere's wife. Although what a man like him sees in that bitch. I hope she's a really good lay, 'cause I've seen geckos with better personalities."

"Geez, catty much there, Lea?" the other woman retorted, allowing her friend her chance at the fountain. She tossed her blonde hair over one shoulder, adding, "Anne isn't that bad once she decides that you're not a threat. Me, I'm not a threat to anyone. Now, let's haul ass, before we're late for the deposition. You know Ms. Malloy gets cranky whenever someone is late." With those words, the woman named 'Lea' actually meeped (people really did that?), then scampered off with her exasperated friend in tow.

Rochefort returned his eyes, if not his attention, to the floor in front of him. Anne … Maddox. This Friday. He began to smile, because if it was a trap, it was a little too conveniently arranged. No. No, this was for real … and he would take advantage of the blessing that was just dropped into his lap. By the time the sun rose on Saturday morning, Maddox would be dead, Aramis would be a distant memory, and Anne would _finally_ be where she belonged: in his arms.

TBC

Additional Author's Notes: Sorry for the somewhat shorter chapter this time, but I really want to get to work on the next one, ' _Like Uncle, Like Niece_.' And yes, the title of the chapter does come from the exchange between Evy and Beni in _The Mummy_ , one of the funniest scenes in the entire movie. Evy, ' _You know, nasty little fellows like yourself always get their comeuppance_.' Beni starts to laugh, stops, ' _they do_?' Evy leans forward, ' _oh yes …_ _ **always**_.' Rachel Weisz and Kevin J. O'Connor always have me laughing hysterically at that scene. Also, I've never been in the San Antonio airport, so I don't know if they have glass elevators. Raleigh (RDU) does, so we'll just pretend that San Antonio does as well, m'kay? More to come!


	18. Chapter 17: Like Uncle, Like Niece

Author's Notes: I thought for some time about how to deal with Rochefort. He had to pay, without question, but I didn't want to make it too quick. He had to suffer, the way he's made others suffer (did I mention I have a cruel streak in me? Maybe I didn't have to) … but he also had to be in a position where he couldn't hurt anyone else, ever again. And then I remembered something I'd read in a James Rollins novel once (one of my favorite writers) … I also remembered several plotting sessions, and I knew I had it. My next issue was how to do it. And now, this chapter has that mixture of brain-storming and research. I hope you're pleased with the result. I'm fairly happy with it. My next big project, now that I'm wrapping up this story, will be figuring out how to start ' _What I Can Be_.' I have the middle in mind, I know how it ends, but figuring out the beginning will be the tough part. For now, in this chapter, Anne Maurice drops a bombshell on her Musketeers; Rob finds himself in a very unpleasant situation; while Anne Maurice discovers a strength she never would have imagined. Oh, and I went to see the new _Independence Day_ movie. Predictable? Yeah, for me. Fun? Oh, absolutely. I found myself laughing, crying, cheering, and muttering some very naughty words under my breath at certain times. And one of the minor characters reminded me so much of Tom Burke's Fedya Dolokhov, I had to come home and double-check to see if he was in it (it wasn't him. Too bad).

Reviewer response:

A reader: LOL … yeah, that was kinda the idea, including a conversation that sounds like something you might hear at work or in life as a whole. You'll get some Athos-whump in this chapter, which will be expanded upon in the next. Rochefort is down and out, but the story isn't quite over. Next chapter deals with what was going on with the original Inseparables, with d'Artagnan in the basement, and with the prognosis for Rochefort. And maybe Treville asking Joselais out on a date? Or, at least, for coffee?

Chapter Seventeen

Like Uncle, Like Niece

Bourbon Enterprises San Antonio HQ

San Antonio, Texas

That Afternoon

"YOU DID WHAT?"

Tristan Maddox squeaked and darted behind her uncle's wheelchair. She wasn't afraid of Jean Treville. As angry as he was, and as fierce as his roar, she knew that he would never hurt her. Especially since she recognized that he was slipping into what her mom called his 'Papa Bear Treville' mode. He wasn't really angry, but he was worried. No, right now, she was more worried about Anne Maurice … who dropped a bomb on them all once they returned to the Bourbon building, telling them that she sent an invitation to the district attorney's office (in other words, Tristan's father) while Uncle Athos was meeting her new cousin Justinian at the airport. And Miss Ana was currently glowering at Uncle Jean, eyes fixed on him like laser beams.

Uncle Jean got somewhat unexpected support when Milady Anne observed, "I appreciate a good trap as much as the next person, but it's kind of a smart idea to give your security personnel a heads' up before you put plans into motion. Gives them a chance to make plans of their own to keep you safe. Which is, you know, kind of their job. And since it's my husband's skin on the line, along with your boyfriend's, you _really_ should have said something to the captain before you sent that email. But, what's done is done, now we have to figure out the best way to protect you both. And would you stop glaring at Treville? You're scaring my niece."

Miss Ana looked a bit abashed at that, but still defiant, and Uncle Jean added, gentling his tone somewhat, "Anne, we are responsible for your safety, as well as the safety of Bourbon's clients. The proposed meeting is on Friday … that gives us very little time to prepare. And please don't say there won't be an issue … Rochefort gained access to Tristan's school by pretending to be a custodian." Miss Ana's mouth snapped shut at that, and Tristan winced … not just at the reminder of the encounter with the monster who had shot her father, which resulted in her uncle being hurt as well, but at the mention of the custodian who died at the hands of Rochefort. Uncle Athos' hand came up to cover her own, gently squeezing her fingers. He'd checked himself out of the hospital, against the advice of the doctors, to attend the man's funeral, Milady Anne at his side. It wasn't his fault … it wasn't either of their faults, Tristan knew, but he'd gone anyhow, because no one deserved to pass from this life unnoticed. Tristan wasn't too sure about that, but on this particular man, she'd agree.

Miss Ana ducked her head, the last of her defiance fading away as she sighed, "My apologies … I should have thought of that myself. But I promise you, even if you aren't here, I'm not unable to defend myself. After all, even if I can't reach my pistol, I have this." She lifted up a paperweight which Porthos had given to her as a gag gift for her birthday the previous year, shortly after they were transferred to San Antonio … a paperweight that was crafted in the form of antique brass knuckles. Tristan had picked them up, and yeah, they were heavy. Still … the girl was skeptical. How could she defend herself, using those?

She wasn't the only one. Tristan's mom said softly, "There are others we need to worry about, not just your safety and Rob's. Still, what's done is done … Captain, what can I do to help?" Seriously? This from the woman who'd been telling Tristan only twenty minutes earlier that she didn't think that she was good enough for Uncle Jean? Well, no, those weren't her exact words, but they were close. ' _A man like Jean Treville_ ,' Mom had said when Constance pointed out the way Uncle Jean looked at her, ' _can do much,_ _ **much**_ _better than me_.' Her mom wasn't one to say stupid things generally, but that qualified for all-out idiotic. Milady Anne agreed, judging from the ' _you've got to be kidding me_ ' look she'd directed at Mom.

"Stand by. No … no, check with Ninon and see if any of the custodial staff has been missing the last few days. Custodial staff, and the companies that stock the vending machines as well," Uncle Jean replied. Mom inhaled sharply, but nodded. The vending machines … oh. Oh, she would have never thought of that, but it made perfect sense. Uncle Jean added, "We have three days … take your time, and trust your instincts. Musketeers, start checking over this building from bottom to top, familiarize yourself with all possible entrances and exits, just as we would do with any other assignment."

"We need to figure out what to do about the children. The way I see it, they're safer with us. Leaving them at the Garrison with guards is just asking for trouble, but I'm not familiar enough with this building to suggest a room," Milady Anne observed, swaying in place with Sabine in her arms. Tristan's youngest cousin had started fussing earlier, and Milady Anne had swung the toddler into her arms. But she didn't try to soothe her … instead, she continued walking and talking with Uncle Athos, and Sabine quieted anyhow. Mom had grinned, ruffled Uncle Athos' hair, and resumed her conversation with Porthos.

"There are two safe rooms in the building … one is a conference room, and the other is in the basement. We can use the one in the basement as a temporary nursery. My apologies, Captain … I never even considered that angle," Miss Ana observed contritely. Uncle Jean inclined his head, and Miss Ana forged ahead determinedly, "Since I helped to create a possible disaster, it's only right that I help with the preparations. Joselais will be taking care of the custodial staff and the vendors. What can I do to help?"

"Start getting the basement safe room ready for the children. In fact, it might not be a bad idea to turn that into a full time nursery or day care," suggested Uncle Jean, almost off-handed. Miss Ana blinked, and then a slow smile crossed her face, as if something she'd been puzzling through slipped into place for her. Uncle Jean added, "We all have our assignments … and not a lot of time … so it's time to get to work."

14AA41

Three Days Later

He was surprised when he received the email from Anne Maurice, inviting him to the Bourbon Enterprises building to talk about her initiative … working with the police department and the district attorney's office to help at-risk youth. He was even more surprised when, on the morning of his meeting with the young CEO, his former brother-in-law and the other three Inseparables showed up at his tiny apartment. Athos' arm was in a sling, and he still looked pale and tired, but resolute. Moreover, he was standing on his own two feet … true, he was shot in the shoulder, rather than the chest, but he'd been in a fight after he was shot, and then drove himself and Tristan toward safety before blood loss finally got the better of him.

Much as Rob hated to admit it, Josie's little brother was a bonafide bad-ass. And when he questioned why the Musketeers were escorting him to the meeting, Porthos du Vallon rolled his eyes and muttered some rather uncomplimentary things about Rob under his breath. But Athos leaned forward until he could brace his good hand on the handle of Rob's wheelchair, glowering into Rob's eyes, and said coolly, "You are nowhere near good enough for my sister. You don't deserve her, you never did, and it's extremely unlikely that you ever will. I don't even regard you as a man … more like a mewling twit. Shall we be clear about that?" Rob nodded warily and Athos went on, "However. With all of that being said, so long as there is breath in my body, Tristan will not grow up without her father. Do we understand one another?"

 _General translation_ , Rob thought a bit sourly, _he doesn't think I'm worth the powder it would take to blow me to hell, but he'll still give his life to protect me_. However, he nodded his understanding, and satisfied, Athos straightened up once more. He swayed a bit, his face growing a little paler, but Rob bit down on the ' _are you okay_ ' that wanted to escape. He had the distinct feeling that his former brother-in-law didn't want to hear it. Besides, his two brothers Aramis and Porthos were at his side immediately, while the youngest (d'Artagnan, and who in the hell named a kid that?) eyeballed him worriedly. When he nodded, the other two stepped back, d'Artagnan pushed Rob's wheelchair out to the refurbished church van that Aramis drove. Well, that was a plus … it had a lift for his wheelchair.

There was little conversation on the way to the Bourbon office building, not that Rob even really tried to start a conversation. The Musketeers didn't like him, and made no secret of it … Porthos going so far as to talk to Athos about what he would do if their captain started a relationship with Josie ?!). Athos merely shrugged and answered that he would cross that bridge when they came to it … their captain hadn't even asked Josie out for a cup of coffee, and while Josie seemed to be aware of the opinions of others, she tended to think that Treville could do better than her. Rob knew he had no right to even have an opinion where Josie was concerned, but the idea of his ex-wife in a relationship so soon after they (he) ended their attempts … well, it felt like someone was squeezing his heart and lungs together in a giant fist.

They arrived at the Bourbon building a short time later, and the five had Rob out of the church van in short order. He noticed with unease that his ex-brother-in-law's head seemed to be on a pivot, and he wondered if he had reason to worry. As they passed the threshold and headed to the center of the building, a door opened behind them and from the corner of his eye, Rob noticed one of the cleaning staff pushing one of their carts. And then Athos cried out, collapsing to his knees and pressing a hand to his injured shoulder. Rob's blood ran cold when he saw an all too familiar form standing over the wounded Musketeer … Rochefort, dressed in the familiar uniform of the custodian vendor, and holding a gun.

Aramis d'Herblay fell to his knees beside his brother protectively as Porthos stood in front of Rob. Meanwhile, d'Artagnan sped off for parts unknown. Rochefort smirked, saying, "You face a choice, d'Herblay. You can stay here and look after your brother … or you can try to see if you can outrun me to get to Anne." Disdain dripped from the words, and Rob's fingers curled around his armrests. Rochefort hadn't mentioned him, but Rob knew better than to think that he wasn't aware of his presence. He knew. Rob was a lawyer. He wasn't trained to defend himself, he had never learned self-defense of any kind. None of the men now surrounding him had any liking for him, and yet here they were, protecting him. No, he didn't know anything about self-defense … but he had learned a few things about strategy.

"Rochefort … let them go. Take me. Quiet, Athos! You're right, you know … I'm not worth the powder it would take to blow me to hell. That's why I'm not going to let you, or your brother Musketeers, be hurt protecting me," Rob said. In order for a rescue to come, there had to be defenders alive to put that rescue into play. And no matter how much he hated Rob, there was some reluctant respect for the Musketeers. Rochefort looked at him curiously, and Rob added, "They stood in your way, yes … but they've always protected Anne. You know this."

"You're right. But d'Herblay still has a decision to make … his brother? Or Anne?" Rochefort challenged and lashed out with a kick that caught Athos in his injured shoulder. Porthos actually roared (sounding a bit like a wounded bull) and lunged for Rochefort, but Rob put himself between the two. Porthos managed to stop himself just enough, glowering at Rob and looking betrayed. But Rob didn't back down. No, this was too important. He tried to ignore the retching he heard from Athos, and Aramis' whispers, and focused only on Porthos.

"I'm trying to buy you three time … you take care of Athos, and you let Rochefort think that he's won. He's going to want witnesses to my death, so he'd going to take me to Anne's office, a weird way of 'proving' his life for her. You can't save me or Anne if all three of you are dead," Rob whispered. He saw the moment Porthos figured out the bare bones of Rob's plan, and nodded. He offered a small, feral smile, and Rob braced himself for what was to come. Porthos grabbed his shoulder and gave him a small shove toward Rochefort. At least, what was likely a small shove from Porthos, and Rochefort staggered backward when Rob fell against him.

"Go on … take him. Musketeers code only applies to Musketeers, and he ain't worthy of that title," Porthos growled. Rob relaxed … thank God for Porthos. Rochefort eyed the three of them … Porthos standing with his hands on his hips … Athos on his knees, gasping for breath and trying very hard not to lose what little he'd eaten … Aramis, with a protective arm around Athos' body … and then he smiled. Rochefort shoved Rob back into his wheelchair and stalked around Porthos, who immediately hastened to Athos' side. The big man put a gentle hand on his brother Musketeer's back, glowering at Rochefort all the while, and Rob prayed that Rochefort would honor his word, and leave the men alone.

"I'm not carrying you up to Anne's office. We are going to record a segment for the news, you and I, and you are going to admit that little bitch led me on … and that you knew it," Rochefort snarled as Rob fought to keep from losing consciousness. Yeah, that was what Rob figured. He wanted witnesses to Rob's death, and he wanted Rob to play along with the fantasy that he hadn't assaulted that girl. Bastard. That poor kid had only been a few years older than Tristan was now, and the idea of this prick getting his hands on his baby girl was enough to make Rob see red. For that alone, for the actions he had taken to protect Tristan, Rob owed Athos.

By the time his vision cleared from the potent combination of pain and fury, they were in the elevator and on the way up to Anne Maurice's office. He remained aware of the gun pointing in the back of his neck … how could he be anything but? It was his hope that by the time the elevator got back down to the ground floor, Athos had regained his strength (assuming this freak didn't figure out a way to keep the elevator here, and he wouldn't put it past Rochefort to do just that). As the elevator dinged and Rochefort pushed the wheelchair out onto the appropriate floor, he probably would have done just that … except Tristan was just leaving one of the offices … Anne Maurice's office … and Rob cried out, "Run, Tristan … **RUN!** "

He'd barely managed to get the last word out when Rochefort swore and clubbed him with the pistol. Through the pain and dizziness, Rob saw his daughter's face pale, and she turned on her heel and ran … right back to Anne's office. Dammit! She ran into the arms of the pretty young CEO, who held her against her chest protectively. Now Rochefort had three hostages, and he could only hope that they'd caught a break, since Rochefort couldn't keep the elevator here. Anne backed away, still clutching Tristan, backed into the office. Rochefort shoved the wheelchair, into the office, dumping Rob onto the ground at the same time, and yanked Tristan out of Anne's arms by her hair. Tristan screamed, and Rob pushed himself upright and into the nearest chair. What was Tristan doing here? He tried to remember what Josie told him about their daughter's schedule.

"And now," Rochefort smirked, "I believe there's a confession that needs to be filmed. No, Anne, you're staying where you are. You have a cell phone, Maddox … you know what to do." Rob looked again at his daughter, whose face was wet with tears, and then at Anne Maurice, and the young woman inclined her head, ever so slightly. Her meaning was clear … play along, at least for now. He returned the nod, and hoped that the Musketeers were on their way.

14AA41

Captain Treville was right … again. Oh, why hadn't she consulted him before she extended that invitation? She still thought the meeting was a good idea, but she should have spoken with the Musketeer captain. Anne looked worriedly at Tristan, who was shaking against Rochefort. She was only twelve years old … went through the horror of near death experiences with both her parents, and now this? All because of Anne's folly? No. If Rochefort was up here with Rob Maddox, then that meant something had happened to her Musketeers.

Anne was a bit surprised by the rage that ignited in her soul at that thought. Yes, she was falling in love with Aramis (there, she finally admitted it … she was falling in love with Aramis d'Herblay, and _please God, if you'll just spare him, I'll spend the rest of my life making him happy, just please don't let anything happen to him_ ). But that didn't mean she didn't love Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan as well. They were her brothers, just as much as they were Constance's, and if Rochefort had hurt them …

That was a distinct possibility, and Anne began to focus on what she could do to save all three of them. She glanced around the room, trying to find a weapon, something or anything she could use. As she did, she noticed that Tristan had gone very still in Rochefort's arms … very, _very_ still. Anne glanced at the girl, once more cursing herself for calling Tristan up from the safety of the nursery, where she'd been watching over her two young cousins. But she'd been bored while waiting for the girl's father, and wanted her opinion on something Anne found … something that she thought Tristan's mother would like. She should have waited, and now Tristan's life was at risk. Anne glanced at the girl's face … and while there were tears running down her cheeks, the youngster's expression was nothing short of murderous. Anne's eyes trailed down from Tristan's face, along her shoulder and arm, and came to rest upon her hand.

Her hand, which was reaching for something on Anne's desk, fingers reaching for and missing whatever it was seeking. A twelve year old girl was trying to save them all. God, she really was her uncle's niece, wasn't she? Well if Tristan Maddox, a twelve year old girl with the beginnings of self-defense training, could try to fight back, how could Anne do any less? The CEO couldn't push anything into Tristan's fingers … it would attract far too much attention … however, she could provide a distraction. She glanced at the girl's father, who was also watching his daughter carefully. A cold smile crossed his handsome face, and the hand cradling the phone dropped to his side. Rob Maddox shook his head, saying, "No. No, I'm not doing this anymore. See, I know you're a coward, Rochefort, and I know you're going to kill both Tristan and me. So I'm not going to continue with this charade. You assaulted that girl. I argued it all those years ago, and I'll keep saying it until my dying breath."

"Keep filming! Or I'll paint this room with your daughter's brains!" Rochefort threatened, pressing the gun to Tristan's head. Her fingers stopped twitching briefly, as if fearing that Rochefort would notice what she was doing, and Anne realized that she had to act soon. She looked at her desk frantically … wait. She focused on the paperweight Porthos had given her shortly after her divorce from Louis was finalized. They'd just started working on the Garrison for the Musketeers, and the bay doors were usually open to prevent people from getting sick. Papers kept getting blown around, and so Porthos bought her a paperweight as a belated birthday present … part for practical purposes, but also as a gag. It was an antique … antique brass knuckles, since Constance sometimes teased her about wanting to use brass knuckles on Louis.

And it now sat on her desk. But she still needed a distraction. As Rochefort and Maddox argued, she noticed Rochefort's arm around Tristan's neck began to loosen … and once more, Tristan's fingers began to arch toward Anne's desk. The CEO caught the pre-teen's eye, and pressed the back of her wrist to her forehead, hoping the girl would understand. Tristan's bright eyes widened, and a tiny smirk lifted the corners of her mouth. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, and she began to collapse, her legs giving way. Rochefort swore and tried to adjust his hold on the girl … which gave her the leeway she needed. Her slim fingers closed on a letter opener, which she jammed into Rochefort's hip.

He screamed in pain, and completely released Tristan. Thank God, the girl had the sense to roll out of the way. Because as soon as she had seen Tristan's hand close around the letter opener, Anne Maurice had slipped her fingers into the antique brass knuckles, made a fist, and punched Rochefort in the side of his head as hard as she possibly could. He dropped like a rock, and Tristan skittered across the floor to her father, who pulled her into his arms protectively. Those brass knuckles still on her hand, Anne knelt and picked up the pistol, training it on her fallen stalker. Rob Maddox was comforting his daughter, and Anne smiled in spite of the great numbness that was settling into her soul when she heard him say, "Your mom and Uncle Athos are going to be so proud of you! I know I am!"

Anne was on the point of asking where the Musketeers were, when she heard Aramis crying out her name. She was still unable to form words … she had used those brass knuckles, had felt bone cracking with her punch … but Maddox called back hoarsely, "We're here … we're okay!" Seconds later, Aramis came barreling through the door way, followed closely by Porthos, who was all but carrying a pale Athos. Aramis came to a dead stop … looked at Maddox and Tristan … and then at the fallen Rochefort … and then, finally, he looked at Anne. She stared back, opening and closing her mouth several times.

"Ana? Querida? May I have the gun?" Aramis asked very gently. The gun? Oh. She was still holding the gun, the one that Rochefort had been pointing at the father and daughter. She looked at him, and then looked at the gun again, trying to figure out how to give to him. But Aramis figured it out and eased her fingers away from the trigger. He pulled her into his arms, still pointing the gun at Rochefort. Athos fell to his knees and pressed fingers to the man's throat. Why was he doing that? Oh. Of course. He was checking to see if Anne had killed him. Had she? How would she feel if she had? Because right now, she didn't feel anything.

"He's still alive. Are you two okay?" Athos asked his former brother-in-law and niece. When they both confirmed that they were fine, Athos continued checking over Rochefort. Why wasn't Aramis doing that? He was the medic on the team after all. And then, Aramis' arms tightened around her protectively and she remembered. He was holding her. Athos asked, frowning a little, "How did he get this wound on his hip?" Anne couldn't help herself … she giggled at the question. Athos looked up at her, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"Tristan did that. She stabbed him with my letter opener after she pretended to faint. She stabbed him and I punched him. Like uncle, like niece, after all," Anne told him. She had punched him. She had felt flesh and bone give under her hand when she punched him with the brass knuckles, and it was then that Anne began to shake, even as she heard d'Artagnan and Constance's voices down the hall, even as she heard Anne de Brueil calling desperately for her husband and Joselais calling for her daughter. She began to shake, burying her face against Aramis' neck. He held her tightly, whispering over and over again that she was safe, that it was over, that he had her. Yes … yes, he did … and he always would.

TBC

Additional author's notes: As I mentioned earlier, in the next chapter, you'll see what was going on downstairs with d'Artagnan, and with the boys after Athos collapsed (as well as what Rochefort did to cause that collapse). I'm hoping to have that up by the end of the week. Also, with regards to what inspired Anne's attack on Rochefort … as I mentioned, that was inspired by the end of James Rollins' novel _Bloodline_. There's a confrontation between a man and his wife (the villainess of the piece) in their daughter's hospital room. The wife has a gun on her husband, when their daughter (who regained consciousness during the confrontation) sits up and swings the IV stand into her mother's head, saving herself and her father, as well as avenging the death of her husband at her mother's instigation.


	19. Chapter 18: For Those Darkest of Times

Author's Notes: First, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TOM BURKE! Gotta get that stated, because it's still June 30th for about another three hours here in the US. I hope our dear Athos has had a **wonderful** day. On a much sadder note, I also wanted to acknowledge the recent attack in Turkey. As of this afternoon while I was covering the front desk at work, the death toll had climbed to forty-two, including an eight year old girl. My thoughts and prayers are with everyone affected by this horrific act. Which brings me to the current chapter. Mind you, it's a bit shorter than the last one, but I don't think anyone will be disappointed with the content. In this chapter, we find out just what d'Artagnan was up to (aside from six foot one); what exactly Rochefort did to Athos; and what Rochefort's prognosis is. The next chapter will be the epilogue which contains a final confrontation (of sorts) between Adele and Richelieu, as well as Rob's farewell to San Antonio. I'm hoping to have it written before I return to work next Tuesday, but no guarantees. Chapter title comes from a throwaway line in the 1989 movie, _Sing_ … _for those darkest of times, we will take what we can of the light_. Yeah, I know ... I have the weirdest mind at times.

Reviewer Responses:

A reader: Oh, I think you'll be pleased with Rochefort's punishment. In some ways, it's a fate worse than death.

Chapter Eighteen

For Those Darkest of Times

Bourbon San Antonio Headquarters

Anne Maurice's Office

When they made plans for their arrival with Rob Maddox at the Bourbon building, it was decided that if/when things went pear-shaped, d'Artagnan would split off from his brothers to protect the children in the nursery. Strictly speaking, it wasn't necessary, as Milady and Constance were there, as were Joselais and Treville (hmmm … interesting), but it was the principle of the thing. Of course, it was left up to him what 'pear-shaped' entailed in this case. However, he was fairly sure that when he pivoted to tease Porthos about going to see his 'girlfriend' Tristan and saw the door opening behind Athos, things were about to go pear-shaped. He was right … things went spectacularly pear-shaped from that instant forward. In the seconds between the door opening and his race toward the stairway to the basement, he witnessed Rochefort stepping out of the storage room, pushing a cart, and clubbing Athos in his bad shoulder with what appeared to be a crowbar.

Athos collapsed to his knees, and as much as d'Artagnan wanted to run to his brother's side, he chose to honor Athos' teachings … head over heart … and instead, pivoted toward the stairway which led to the basement. Aramis and Porthos would look after Athos and Maddox … his job was to protect Joselais, Constance, Tristan, and Athos' two children. Unfortunately, once he reached the basement, he found that while his wife, adoptive sister, and 'sister-in-law' were there, along with Treville and the children … Tristan was not. Constance told him that she'd gone up to Anne Maurice's office only moments earlier at the CEO's request, and d'Artagnan felt all the color drain from his face. He hadn't said anything … he hadn't needed to. He only said, "Rochefort's here … he hurt Athos." And that was all the three women needed to hear. Joselais scooped up Sabine, while Milady grabbed Justinian, and they all made their way upstairs with the captain guarding their backs.

He wasn't entirely sure what the ladies and the captain were expecting to see, but he knew _he_ wasn't expecting to see Rochefort on the ground, either unconscious or dead, and Athos kneeling beside him, while Aramis comforted a trembling Anne Maurice. Tristan was in her father's arms as they sat on the floor, and as soon as Tristan saw her mother, she bolted across the room, zig-zagging around her uncle and Rochefort, and threw herself into Joselais' arms. Somehow, Joselais managed to maintain her hold on Sabine and pull her daughter close at the same time. Their captain glanced around the room, before looking to Porthos, asking, "How did it happen?"

It was Tristan, snuggled against her mother, who replied, "Miss Ana punched him in the head with her brass knuckles and I stabbed him in the hip with a letter opener." The youngest Musketeer blinked … ran the words through his mind … and blinked again. He looked at the captain, who looked as bemused as he felt. Anne punched Rochefort in the head with the paperweight. Tristan stabbing him in the hip with a letter opener wasn't a shock, but the idea of gentle and genteel Anne punching anyone … well, as Noelle down in the mail room sometimes said, that does _not_ compute!

However, it was Constance who ended up putting everything into perspective as she dryly observed, "Well, that brings all new meaning to ' _having big brass ones_ ,' now doesn't it?" But Constance didn't give anyone a chance to react to that, as she dropped to her knees beside Athos, murmuring, "Let me have a look at that … I know, you'd rather have your wife, but she has her hands full with your son right now. Is he dead or unconscious? Not that I care, mind you, given what he's put my best friend and my brothers through."

"He's unconscious … someone should probably call 911," Athos answered, sounding extremely tired. Constance hesitated, looked up at Milady. After a long moment, the dark-haired woman nodded and Constance pulled Athos backward to rest against her chest. She wrapped her arms around him, and what was telling everyone in the room was that he relaxed against her. Milady was his wife (or would be again) and he loved her. But he loved Constance as well, and right now, Constance wasn't holding a child.

"They're already on their way. When I heard Mr. Maddox yelling for Tristan to run, I, ah, put in a call to 911 on my cell, and left it on where Rochefort couldn't see it," Anne replied from her position in Aramis' arms. A glance in her direction told d'Artagnan that Milady actually looked impressed by the other Anne's forethought (even if she wasn't impressed by her planning skills). Although, it looked like she was also impressed by Constance's cheekiness. That made two of them, and d'Artagnan was quietly making plans to … reward … her later.

For now, he had a brother who needed medical attention, and Athos wasn't the only one. Maddox looked exhausted and in pain, although he smiled as he watched Tristan cling to her mother. He supposed that Rochefort needed medical attention as well, but really, d'Artagnan didn't give a damn about him. On the other hand, Anne would find it hard to get any work done in her office and his corpse would smell after a while. Porthos and their captain were helping Athos first to his feet, and then into a chair, where he listed to one side, head resting against Milady's hip. He barely managed to keep from smiling when little Justinian reached down from his perch in his mother's arms to ruffle his father's hair. Athos didn't even try to fight his smile at the feel of his son's fingers in his hair, turning his head ever so slightly to kiss the palm of Justinian's hand, drawing a delighted smile from the little boy.

' _And for those darkest of times, let us take what we can of the light_.' That was a line from a movie, d'Artagnan remembered … he just couldn't remember what the name of the movie itself was. But that was what he was feeling now. Remember this moment, even after the hell Rochefort put them all through, because they were here and they were alive. Let us take what we can of the light, whether it was the sight of a young girl in her mother's arms, or the memory of a little boy ruffling his father's hair to make him smile. _Let us take what we can of the light_.

14AA41

San Antonio Memorial Hospital

Late Sunday morning

Once more, he was at the hospital … but this time, it wasn't for one of his boys. No, they were safely at the Garrison. When he looked in on Athos before leaving for the hospital, he was asleep in the rec room, with Justinian snuggled against his side and Sabine babbling away at Milady, who listened with a bemused smile as she watched over her boys. Aramis was demonstrating a few self-defense moves to Anne Maurice, who expressed an interest in learning to protect herself in the wake of Rochefort's final assault (and that was all they were doing when Treville poked his head in … otherwise, he would have needed brain bleach).

Porthos had taken Tristan to the soccer field after she and her mother returned from the early Mass … the poor kid was still dealing with the trauma of being held hostage. He wasn't about to try to diagnose her, but it wouldn't surprise him at all if she was dealing with some form of PTSD. She felt safe on the soccer field, and she felt safe with Porthos … kicking a ball around and pretending it was Rochefort's head could only help. Meanwhile, d'Artagnan and Constance had taken a page from Anne's book and were choosing one of the few remaining rooms as a nursery/play area for their own child. Before she left for Montreal, Adele had smiled and observed that they were nesting. She'd said very little aside from that … asked Anne to take good care of Aramis, told Aramis to love Anne completely, and congratulated Milady on letting Athos catch her. As for Treville himself, Adele said only, ' _don't worry about me. I can take care of myself, and if Armand thinks I'm so easily disposed of, he's about to get a very unpleasant surprise. Focus on that cup of coffee … and whatever comes after that_.'

Ah. That cup of coffee. He smiled, remembering his … meeting the previous afternoon. It was hard for him to believe, but Joselais said ' _yes_ ' when he asked her to join him for a cup of coffee. He'd been equally surprised by her reaction when the request was first made. It was almost as if she … no, that made no sense. In any event, the coffee had sucked … badly … but the company more than made up for it. Joselais shyly admitted that she wouldn't mind seeing where things took them … so long as he understood she was still figuring out what was wrong with her. He quirked an inquiring brow at her, and she offered, ' _I was married to Rob for nearly ten years, and then made two attempts at reconciling with him. I loved him very much … I still do. But for some reason, this failed reconciliation doesn't hurt nearly as badly as the first one did_.' Treville bit down on his desire to take to the woodshed whoever taught this woman that there was something wrong with her, and instead, told her that they would go at her pace, not his. She'd stared at him thoughtfully, asking, ' _you're sure that I'm worth the time and effort_?'

That desire to punch someone returned in full force, and staring into her hazel eyes, Treville said firmly, ' _yes_.' She hadn't argued, merely eyed him thoughtfully and took another sip of her Chai tea, and eventually, the conversation turned toward what would happen to Rochefort if he survived … as well as how Anne was dealing with the events in her office. Even now, days later, Treville still couldn't believe that Anne actually used those brass knuckles on the bastard. Then again, maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised. Anne was far stronger than she realized, and was willing to do battle on behalf of those she loved.

On the other side of the equation, it looked as though Rochefort would survive. Anne didn't deserve to carry the weight of killing someone, not when she was still struggling with her feelings about Rochefort's feelings for her. _Did I do this_ , she asked while Athos and Maddox were being patched up, her head resting against Aramis' shoulder as she curled up in his lap, _did I make him believe that I felt the same way he did_? Surprising everyone, Milady knelt before the younger woman and told her fiercely that she hadn't brought any of this on herself. She wasn't to blame for Rochefort being a few cherries short of a pie. While Treville had to raise his brows at her phraseology, he didn't let that stop him from agreeing whole-heartedly.

It was Rochefort who arranged the for the deaths of Aimee Chabot and Tamsyn Rhodes, it was Rochefort who actually shot both Rob Maddox and Athos, it was Rochefort who struck Athos in his wounded shoulder, first with a crowbar and then with his foot (and _what on earth was a crowbar doing in a custodian's cart_? Aramis asked. Joselais pointed out that sometimes, custodians were called upon to open stuck doors. Point taken). All of this was on Rochefort. All of it. He had the feeling that Aramis would continue repeating that until Anne believed him.

Which brought him to today's journey to the hospital. He'd gotten a call at the Garrison, providing him with an update regarding Rochefort's condition … and waiting for him at the end of the hall was the doctor who called him, one Diana Nguyen. She inclined her head to him, observing, "Thank you for coming so quickly. I understand that you're not law enforcement, but you're acting as an advisor to them in this case." That was as good a phrase as any, and the young surgeon continued, "When Miss Maurice punched Mr. Rochefort in the head, she inflicted severe damage to not just his skull, but to his brain. You're aware of the various states of consciousness, correct?" Oh yes, he was intimately acquainted with them all, and Dr. Nguyen continued, "At present, Mr. Rochefort is in what we call the locked-in syndrome. That is to say, he's awake and aware, but paralyzed with limited communication skills."

He was also familiar with the locked-in syndrome, although he'd never seen it firsthand. He made a motion for the doctor to continue, which she did as she led him to Rochefort's room, explaining, "At present, he can only communicate by blinking his eyes. We have no way of knowing if this is permanent … it could be, or he could recover. The brain is such a delicate organ, and we know comparatively little about it." Indeed they did. And from what the doctor was telling him, it sounded like Rochefort was imprisoned within his own body, as helpless as the women he'd murdered and the children he'd tried to harm. At last, they reached the door, and Dr. Nguyen added, "One last thing. I must caution you about upsetting the patient. I understand that he caused a great deal of suffering, and that he hurt your men … but he's still my patient, and his health is my responsibility."

"Understood. I don't plan to stay long," Treville answered. He purposely didn't address the ' _don't upset my patient'_ part, and she noticed this. The young woman's lips pursed, but she nodded. Obviously, she knew that it didn't take long at all to stop someone's heart. However, Treville had no intention of killing Rochefort. No … no, being imprisoned in one's body for an unknowable length of time was a devastating punishment. Especially once Treville updated the other man. He slipped into the room, and took a seat beside the menace, gazing at him for several seconds … waiting until Rochefort opened his eyes to start speaking.

"I'm sure you realize this isn't a social visit. And in case you hadn't figured it out, you didn't just lose … you were owned. By a twelve year old girl, by the woman you claimed to love. You lost so badly, they'll be using you as a case study for years to come as ' _what not to do_.' Anne Maurice is now taking self-defense lessons from Aramis, and if that close contact leads to something more between them, so be it. But this I do know … Aramis wants to make Anne happy. And she wants to make him happy. There's one definition of love.

"Robert Maddox is on his way to San Francisco. He's taken a leave of absence from the district attorney's office while he sorts himself out. I don't care for the way he treated his ex-wife, but I can't argue with the man's commitment to protecting his daughter. He stood up to a murdering psychopath who was holding a gun to his daughter's head. He was right, of course … regardless of what he did, you would have killed both him and Tristan. Not only that, but he distracted you while Tristan got her hands on that letter opener. That's another definition of love.

"You probably don't understand what I'm getting at, and I'll be happy to explain it to you. You lost, because you are incapable of love. You understand obsession, entirely too well. But you don't understand love … you don't understand what it means to put someone before yourself. You don't understand loyalty, except how it benefits you. To you, ' _all for one and one for all_ ' are just words. That was how my boys were able to trick you. No, they don't like Robert Maddox. But he was under their protection, and for that reason alone, they would have died protecting him, because it was a matter of honor to them. And to a man, they all love Tristan … none of them wanted to see her grow up without her father.

"The doctors tell me that you understand every word I'm saying. They also tell me that they have no way of knowing how long you'll be like this. That's fine. Once things are in place, you'll be transferred back to the prison hospital. But so long as you're here, so long as you're in this state, I want these things to burn into your mind: Tamsyn Rhodes, fighting to her last breath to protect her son; Aimee Chabot lying in a pool of her own blood, trying to distract your man from taking her daughter; Aramis wrapped around Anne and Anne wrapped around Aramis."

Oh, that last idea definitely got Rochefort's attention. Warming to his topic (and maybe including some of his most silent fantasies), Treville went on, "I want you to see Aramis on one knee before Anne, proposing marriage to her … and her weeping for joy as she says yes. I want you to see her gravid with Aramis' child … and know that child will _never_ be yours. Even if, God forbid, Aramis died tomorrow … **Anne** will _never_ be yours. You've lost, in every way imaginable. Even Richelieu has washed his hands of you. You are as helpless as Tamsyn and Aimee were, as helpless as you thought Anne and Tristan are. You've lost … you _are_ lost. And you may never find your way home."

With those words, Treville rose to his feet. He thought about adding, ' _may God have mercy on your soul_ ,' but he didn't want to be presumptuous toward the Almighty. Instead, he simply walked out of the room and down the hall, where a familiar, slight woman leaned against the wall. She'd changed out of her Sunday finery, and now wore a pair of leggings and a baggy sweater, her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, making her look far younger than her thirty-seven years. She looked up as he approached, asking, "Done already? Then again, it was a one-sided conversation, from what I heard of his condition."

"Very one-sided. And yes … yes, we're done here. Now, Porthos is entertaining Tristan, so we have an afternoon free. Whatever shall we do?" he teased with a gentle smile. Joselais blushed and dipped her head, slipping her hand into his offered elbow as they began to stroll along the hospital corridor, heading for the elevator. Treville had a few ideas about what to do that evening, perfectly innocent ideas, but when he and Joselais agreed to a second meeting, it was agreed that she would choose the afternoon excursion and he would choose the evening part.

"Promise not to laugh?" she asked, peeking at him from under her lashes, and Treville made the oh-so-familiar heart-crossing sign. Joselais continued, "I've wanted to go to the zoo for years. Yeah, I've taken Tristan there, and have been a chaperone for her class, but how much attention can you pay to the exhibit when you're helping to keep twenty-five kids under control?" Treville thought of trying to control four headstrong, stubborn, brave men, and could indeed see where she was coming from. Besides … it sounded like fun.

"Then the zoo it is. After dealing with Rochefort and the messes he caused, it sounds perfect, really. And I'm not sure if I've ever heard, just how do you feel about hockey? I have tickets to the Rampage game tonight," he suggested. He had the distinct pleasure of watching Joselais' eyes light up at the mention of San Antonio's minor league hockey team. She nodded eagerly, even going so far as to hug his arm. Treville told himself rather sternly to get a hold of himself, but he couldn't keep from smiling, even as he reflected on the last week. It was ironic, really … in the beginning, Joselais went to the district attorney's office for a reconciliation date with her ex-husband, and now, they were arranging … meetings for excursions (he dared not to call them dates). Would they lead to dates in time? He was starting to hope so. But for now, he would just enjoy the company of this lovely woman.

TBC

Additional Author's Notes: The San Antonio Rampage is an actual hockey team. They are in the AHL, and a farm team of the Colorado Avalanche. And yes, I am a hockey fan, have been since I was nine years old. I was fortunate enough to see our Indianapolis Checkers win the Adams Cup in 1982. This was during the golden age for our parent team, the New York Islanders. (Now, if only my Cardiac 'Canes could at least get into the playoffs ... then again, that's one reason we call them the Cardiac 'Canes. The other reason is because they snatch defeat from the jaws of victory and vice versa). Oh, and remember when I told you what was coming up in the epilogue? I forgot to mention the name of said epilogue: _One Last Secret_ , and that particular secret belongs to Anne de Brueil. And what is that secret? Well, now, that would be telling. Like I said, the current plan is to try to have that completed and posted before I return to work on Tuesday after my three and a half day weekend. Oh, and happy Independence Day to my fellow Americans!


	20. Epilogue: One Final Secret

Author's Notes: And that's a wrap! I wish I could give y'all an idea of when _What I Can Be_ (title comes from my favorite Nickelback song, _Savin' Me_ ) will be posted, but while I have an idea of how to start the prologue, that's all I have right now. It could be as soon as a few days from now, or it could be a week or so. I've already decided (assuming Anne doesn't change my mind … again) that it will be a book-end format; that is to say, the prologue and (most of) the epilogue will both be set in the present, while the main part of the story will be set in the past. Also … I'm playing around with an original story. Still not sure how far I'm going to get with it, so that's all I'm going to say for now. For now, we have Joselais and Treville seeing Rob off; a final encounter (sort of) between Richelieu and Adele; and Anne revealing her final secret. Until next time, my dear ones!

Epilogue

One Final Secret

San Antonio International Airport

San Antonio, TX

Six Weeks Later

"So, you have everything?"

He stood in the ticket area, doing a last minute check. His ticket was on his cell phone, his bag was checked. He had said good-bye to his only child last night when he dropped her off at her mother's house. The only thing left to do was go through security and reach his gate. After that, things would be out of his hands for the next few hours. That sucked … he hated losing control. Whether of his body, his life, his career or his marriage, he hated losing control. Something he had to work on. But first, he had to say … what? Good-bye? That implied Rob Maddox wouldn't be coming back, and while his relationship with her as husband and wife was over, they would always be connected through their daughter. And there would be many phrases to convey, 'until later.' He said for now, "Yeah, I think so. I've already confirmed with Nick Boyle that someone will be picking me up when I get to San Francisco." He would be staying with Father Callaghan's friends while he was in the Bay City and assisting with the Derek Rayne Foundation. He had pointed out to Boyle during their conversation that he wasn't qualified to practice law in California, but the other man assured him that wasn't what he was looking for. It was a bit complicated, but he would explain when Rob arrived. Uh-huh. That was reassuring.

His ex-wife said softly, "Well … I hope you find what it is that you're looking for." Yeah, that made two of them. The worst part of it was, he wasn't even sure what he was hoping to find in San Francisco that he couldn't find in San Antonio. A piece of himself that he hadn't realized he lost? He didn't know. He just knew that it had been a long time since he liked himself, and it had nothing to do with his job, and everything to do with the way he behaved toward others. It wasn't just his serial cheating on Josie.

"You have to know … there's nothing wrong with you," Rob said as he glanced over his ex's shoulder at the man who had driven them here. Jean Treville leaned against the wall, eyes never leaving them. Rob still wasn't sure if he thought Rob was a danger to Josie, or if he just couldn't turn off his scary Musketeer ' _screw with me and die_ ' mien. However, he was willing to put money on the latter. Josie frowned, and Rob explained, "No, your new boyfriend didn't say anything to me about it … your sister-in-law did. There's nothing wrong with you, Josie. There was a part of you which always knew that I wasn't as committed to reconciling as I claimed to be. You knew that, and you were protecting yourself."

He'd been forced to come face to face with that particular truth after an _extremely_ unpleasant conversation with Anne de Brueil. He still loved Josie. He always would. But after she was shot, he was even more in love with the idea of reconciling than he was with the woman herself. Anne admitted candidly that she wasn't sure if Treville could always be there for Josie. He himself wasn't sure, and acknowledged that sometimes, his duty would come before her. But there was no doubt in Anne's mind … or in Rob's … that when she needed him most, he would be there. But first, she needed to understand that she could trust her instincts. Something she was obviously still having a hard time with, as she began, "Maybe if I'd …" Rob immediately shook his head and pressed a single finger to her lips, effectively silencing her for the moment.

"No. You didn't just meet me halfway, you went beyond that. It takes two people to make a marriage work, Josie … two people, not one doing the work of two. If you did anything wrong, it was in not calling me on my behavior … but I'm an adult, and you aren't my mother. Let it go, Josie … let _us_ go," Rob told her. Josie took a deep breath, but didn't say anything at first. Rob again glanced over her shoulder, saying, "He's a good man." Josie didn't bother turning around, but the corners of her mouth lifted.

"He is," she agreed, "and I still think he can do better than me. But he seems to think that I'm worth the effort, even though it took me nearly six weeks to admit that we're actually dating." Yeah, Rob would have laughed at that, but a) his ex-wife wasn't joking and b) it wasn't actually funny. Up until this morning, Josie had referred to her dates with Treville as 'excursions' or 'meetings' or something else, but never 'dates.'

"You _are_ worth the effort … and the time. Has Athos given him the shovel talk yet?" Rob asked and the twitch of her lips turned into a sheepish smile, and a small headshake. Rob elected not to ask what that meant, deciding that it was none of his business. Instead, he said softly, "Then I suppose this is au revoir." He could have said anything … 'until later' or 'hasta luego' or 'arrivderci.' But in the end, he chose the language that Josie spoke as a child, at the insistence of her mother. She put that part of her life behind her, aside from her two brothers, and now, it was time for them to do the same. Her sharp inhale told him that she understood. He smiled at her sadly and brushed a lock of hair that escaped her barrette before leaning in to kiss her forehead, murmuring, "I will always love you, Josie."

She slipped into his arms as easily as she ever did, whispering, "And I will always love you, Robby. Be safe." He said nothing, just held her for a long moment, resting his chin atop her head. Reluctantly, he released her, even as Jean Treville pushed himself away from the wall and walked up behind Josie. He didn't touch her … he didn't need to. He was there for her, and he would protect her with his last breath. He could be the man Josie deserved, and regardless of what she thought, Treville would be damn lucky if Josie surrendered her heart to him.

"Take care of her," Rob told the other man, and Treville inclined his head, as if to say of course he would. He still didn't touch her, but did move a little closer. With one last smile for his ex-wife, for the mother of his child, for the woman who, in his heart, would always be his Josie, Rob Maddox turned away and headed for security, and for whatever adventures, mysteries, and terrors San Francisco held for him.

14AA41

LaFontaine Park

Montreal, Quebec

Same Time

He waited alone beside the statue, wondering for the umpteenth time if she'd chosen this monument deliberately. Knowing Adele, that was extremely likely. She knew he was an admirer of the great man, and he wouldn't put it past her to be trying to tell him something. He was damned, though, if he could figure out what that something was. She probably wouldn't be surprised by that.

"I just heard from Anne … Jean Treville and Audelais de la Fere have seen off Robert Maddox. He's heading to San Francisco, assisting the Legacy House there," she said, and Armand Richelieu turned to face her, stiffening at the mention of the Legacy. Of course she was approaching from the back. She didn't trust him enough to approach from the front. She was wise to do so … but probably not wise enough. He didn't respond right away, as Adele wasn't finished speaking. She went on, "Oh, yes, I know about the Legacy, Armand. I also know that your father was the head of security for Paris House. He probably would have been devastated by its fall in '97." Actually, his father had seen the fall of Paris House coming. He likely would have seen the fall of Montreal House as well.

He still hadn't said anything, because she still had more to tell him. She always did, if he was willing to listen. This time, he was. Adele continued, "I also received an update on Rochefort. His condition hasn't changed, he is still locked in. For someone who had no idea what she was doing. Anne Maurice did one helluva job on him. Punched him in just the right place and with just the right amount of force to render him utterly helpless and unable to communicate except for blinking. Imagine what she could have done if she'd been trained." Richelieu was trying to avoid that train of thought, thank you very much. Now he couldn't. Anne Maurice, as she currently was, was often troublesome. Trained by her Musketeer? She was damn dangerous.

However, he didn't comment further on that, choosing instead to say, "You say he can only communicate through blinking his eyes?" Adele nodded, smirking a bit. Richelieu ignored her. At present, while Treville and his Musketeers likely suspected him, there was no proof that he was involved … as soon as he had Rochefort released from prison, he had completely eliminated the paper and electronic trails. The footage of him meeting with Rochefort months earlier had mysteriously vanished. And now, there was just one loose end remaining.

"Mmm. At least at the present time. According to Anne, he has guards at his door twenty-four hours a day, switched out on a weekly basis. They aren't told anything about him … just that he's an important prisoner who is presently sedated and needs to stay that way for the duration. They don't know what his crimes are … if word got out that he assaulted one young girl and held another child hostage, he probably wouldn't live long," Adele observed. Mmm. Excellent point, and something worth looking into. The right word, slipped into the right ear? Definitely worth investigating. For now, he had to see to this loose end.

"And what of you? What's next for you?" he asked. Adele's brows arched. This was a far different woman than the one he left to Milady, years ago. He could still remember her weeping, 'I love Aramis … I love Aramis' as he walked away. Now, their relationship was over for good, and Richelieu was … still alone. The thought gave him pause, but only briefly. He didn't need other people … it was a lonely road he walked to protect Bourbon Enterprises, and he had known that. He did distasteful things for the sake of Louis Roy, even as the boy scorned him for it. But they were necessary things. He asked next, "I do hope to see you again, one day."

The look Adele gave him was flat-out disbelieving, and he reflected that she had, indeed, changed a great deal. However, she answered, "Oh, I don't know. I thought I'd head west to Vancouver, maybe Victoria. It's been a long time since I was in British Columbia. Or, maybe I'll head to Calgary. I haven't really decided yet. What of you? I know Louis' still in San Antonio, and you're here in Quebec. You don't care about many people, Armand, but I know you love that boy, as much as you're capable of loving anyone." Richelieu waved a hand, almost dismissively, as if to say, 'it's not important.'

"It doesn't matter where I am, I can still protect his interests," he answered with a serene smile. He didn't look around them at the beautiful park, or even at the statue of the man he'd admired ever since he was a boy. He looked only at Adele. He would miss her, he realized, and that caused his throat go dry. He would miss this woman. She'd betrayed him, but he would miss her, and he had missed her. But this was the way things had to be. He could not allow regret to interfere with that now. He added after a moment, pressing a single button on his cell phone, pre-programmed to send a text, "Good-bye, Adele."

"Au revoir, Armand. We _will_ see each other again, when you least expect it," Adele answered. With those words, she continued walking past him, as if he was someone she hadn't been expecting to meet and stopped to talk to. Richelieu watched her go, inhaling the crisp, early March air. She disappeared into the trees. Richelieu continued to wait, and about fifteen minutes later, the sound of a gunshot destroyed the serenity of the day. The few people in the park with him immediately scattered. Only Richelieu remained, leaning against the foundation of de Gaulle's statue.

As the echoes of the gunshot died away, he smiled sadly and murmured, "No, Adele … we won't." Shaking his head, Richelieu gave the statue a nod, knowing that his hero would have understood what he had just done, and began to walk away in the opposite direction. When Adele proposed that they meet here, in the park, he set up two snipers in a pair of trees, a quarter mile away from the statue in either direction. When the police arrived, they would only find a dead woman … nothing to indicate who killed her. His men were very, very good.

As he began to walk away, his cell pinged, indicating he'd received a text. He nodded to himself … and froze. Because it wasn't the text he'd been expecting. It was from the wrong number, for one thing. And for another … for another, it read, ' _try harder next time, Armand_.' Seconds later, another text followed, telling him, ' _I learned my lesson the first time. Brought reinforcements of my own. As I said … we_ _ **will**_ _see each other again_.' Richelieu stared at the text, and against his will, he smiled. Well. It seemed that he had underestimated Adele Bessette. They would meet once again, as she had said … and this time, he would be far more prepared. He turned and began walking in another direction. There was nothing more to be done here. As for Milady … well. When she expected it least, her happy life would turn to ash.

14AA41

The Musketeer Garrison

San Antonio, Texas

Later that day

"MISS ANNE!"

The sound of Justinian's indignant voice had Anne de Brueil bolting upright, glancing to her side where Athos was still sleeping. She would have to see to Justinian quickly if she wanted to make sure he stayed asleep. It had been a rough night … although mostly healed, Athos was still on light duty. Unfortunately, for a Musketeer, light duty meant something entirely different … seeing to the training of the Musketeer recruits. He was also worried because his sister took her ex-husband to the airport. He didn't need to worry … Treville was with her … but the more time he spent with his older sister, the more he remembered of their childhood. Whatever would she do with that man?

For now, she would see to their son before he woke Athos up. She eased herself from the bed and padded into the play area where Justinian was glowering at his little sister, and Sabine was whimpering. Justinian stomped his foot and opened his mouth, but Anne pressed a finger against her lips, reminding him that his daddy was asleep. She picked up Sabine before she could start to wail and actually wake Athos up, and Justinian said more quietly, though still looking mutinous, "She took it from me!" Anne arched her brow at him.

"One, we told you that would need to learn to share … and two, Sabine isn't even two years old yet. She didn't mean to upset you. And three, if you can't be quiet while your daddy gets some sleep …" Anne told him. She left the threat open-ended, mostly because she didn't know how to finish. She didn't need to, anyhow. Ugh. She should have accepted Captain Treville's offer to take Justinian with them to the airport today. What the hell made her think that she could be a good mother? She remembered her conversation with Josie, when her sister-in-law told her that there would be moments, days, weeks like this.

Justinian was quiet for a long moment, looking from his baby sister to the tears on her face to the toy in her hand. He asked softly, mindful now to keep his voice low, "I scared her, didn't I?" Anne wasn't sure if that was the case and she'd stopped being a toddler many years earlier. However, she nodded anyhow and Justinian leaned in to gently hug his little sister, whispering, "I'm sorry, Sabine." He pulled back, and asked, "Is Uncle Aramis back?" Amusing everyone, while his cousin Tristan had attached herself to Porthos, Justinian's second favorite person after his daddy, Miss Anne, and Aunt Josie was Uncle Aramis.

"He is, and I think he could use a hug from you … but be gentle with him," Anne told her son. She kissed his forehead, and watched as he ran from the room. She was actually serious when she told Justinian that Aramis could probably use a hug … he'd spent the day at the courthouse, testifying in front of a grand jury about an assault the Musketeer had helped to prevent, not long after her husband and his brothers arrived in Texas. He was exhausted and emotionally wrung out … not because of testimony, but because he had to take an alternate way back to the Garrison. It seemed that the defense attorney found him very, very attractive, and she didn't like to take 'no' for an answer. Anne Maurice was not amused and once she was assured that Aramis was in good hands, planned to head over to the law firm. Kit O'Malley had snickered that he wished he could see that particular 'coming to Jesus' meeting.

Justinian nodded seriously, kissed first Anne and then Sabine, and then scampered off to find his beloved uncle. Anne sighed, straightening up. She still wasn't sure what a 'coming to Jesus' meeting was, but she had a feeling that it was nothing pleasant. Not her problem, at least until Ms. Fiona McCullough made a move on her Athos … at that point, Anne would get involved, and Ms. Fiona McCullough would not enjoy the meeting. At all. With that pleasant thought in mind, Anne carried the still whimpering Sabine back to Athos' side and eased the toddler against her daddy's side. Athos shifted a little and Sabine quieted right now. Anne watched two of the people she loved most in the world sleep and sat down in a nearby chair.

She watched over her husband and her new daughter. Really, she hadn't expected to love Sabine, not nearly as much as she did, and while the little girl didn't understand that Mummy was gone and never coming back, she did seem to understand that Anne was her mummy now. She had pretty much the entire family wrapped around her little pinky finger, and if it wasn't for the intervention of Aunt Josie and Aunt Constance, her uncles and 'grandfather' probably would have spoiled her six ways from Sunday. Daddy was still very tentative with both Sabine and Justinian, something that had confused Justinian. His Aunt Josie explained to him that while his daddy was an awesome big brother, and an awesome little brother, and a really awesome Musketeer, he had no idea how to be a daddy … and it was Justinian's job to teach him that.

Justinian's blue eyes went very wide, and as his aunt figured, he took his new job very, very seriously. There were times when Anne didn't know if she should hug her sister-in-law or strangle her. This was definitely a time when she wanted to hug her. But then she heard paper crinkle, and knew that with her son heading off to see his beloved Uncle Aramis, and her daughter with Athos, it was time to take care of this. She pressed her fingers to her lips and then touched those fingers to first Athos' lips, and then to Sabine's forehead, before heading to the office. This was something she should have done sooner, but taking care of Athos came first.

She'd found them … well. It didn't matter where and when she'd found them. What mattered was that she disposed of them. There wasn't a shredder in the apartment she and Athos were now sharing until they found a house appropriate for two small children (plus Athos' idiot brothers). Using the shredder in Josie's office wasn't even an option. And right now, Constance was helping to turn that basement where she and the others hid when Rochefort made his final assault into a daycare/nursery, which left the Garrison office open.

Open, and empty. Anne pulled the papers out of her blouse, the papers that ended the marriage of Athos and Anne de la Fere. The papers she'd never signed … why? For the life of her, Anne couldn't explain why she never signed and filed those papers. Was she trying to punish Athos by making it impossible for him to move on with his life? And yet, he did. He had become a Musketeer, had become a protector. But Anne … Anne stayed stuck, becoming a headhunter for Richelieu, becoming Milady. She'd started reclaiming herself after she was forced to realize that she didn't really want Athos dead, that the reality of her husband's death left her breathless and the world far darker … little by little until the breakthrough came in San Francisco.

It didn't matter. What mattered was that … was that she and Athos now had the fresh start they both deserved. And that was why she was doing this, destroying the papers. Not because Athos wouldn't forgive her … he would. But because he wouldn't forgive himself for cheating on her with Aimee, even though he behaved in good faith. It was time to start over, it was time for a new beginning. The last of the divorce papers disappeared into the shredder, and Anne released a breath. Next, she would start making plans for their second wedding. This final secret of hers wouldn't be permitted to hurt their future together, with their children. She wouldn't allow it.

FIN

Additional Notes: Okay, I'm not sure exactly where the statue of Charles de Gaulle is in LaFontaine Park, but based on what I could see of the park in Google maps, the odds are good that the statue is close to the treeline. So, for any residents of Montreal, if I've gotten it wrong, I apologize.


End file.
